Too Lost to be Found
by GratefulInsomniac
Summary: A House-Cuddy reunion story. Brought together by unforeseen circumstances, outside of Princeton, what are the possibilities for them. This takes place 3 years after House went to jail. Season 8 is ignored. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N-**_This takes place about three years after House went to jail. There is no attention paid to season 8 events apart from the fact that he went to jail. It focuses in on the relationship between House and Cuddy, outside of their normal environment._

_Rated M now for language and adult themes, later for other things._

**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD. _

**(Rev. 3/17/12-Updated for Grammatical Errors)**

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><p>She couldn't get over the way he looked. All of the horrible things he did to his body, the years of abuse, and yet standing there, leaning forward against the bar, unshaven, hair facing every which way, wearing wrinkled clothes, he still made her heart skip a beat. She was seated strategically between two groups of drunken revelers and just…watched. All of the years she had known him, she never expected to see him on <em>that<em> side of a bar, doling out drinks to customers. He had a stool placed between two large coolers to lean against occasionally, but all of the pacing back there seemed to suit him.

She had imagined this moment several times over the past three years. She'd wondered if he'd look worn and sickly, or drunk and sullen, or even healthy and fit, her mind had considered all possibilities. She had little idea what he'd been up to these last few years and hoped time and again that, against the odds, he would find the motivation to treat himself a bit more kindly. She didn't expect him to look exactly the same.

She watched with great curiosity as a young woman came up, leaning over the bar to offer him an unencumbered look down her shirt, clearly flirting with him. The woman reached her hand out to rest it on his forearm. Cuddy felt that instant revulsion. Everyone knew what a jealous bastard he could be but they probably underestimated the extent of her jealousy. As angry as she was when he lashed out at her in an envious rage, the part of her that she hated to acknowledge even existed, actually understood. She'd always been better at controlling her impulses, but here, watching the woman practically throw herself at him, she felt the swell of irritation. 'Probably a damn hooker,' she thought, always disturbed by his history with prostitutes. There were moments in the last few years when even she had to acknowledge that replacing emotional connections with financial transactions seemed simpler…even if she'd never be able to follow through with such a thing.

He stopped listening to the man he had been talking to and smiled down at the scantily dressed woman. It was then that Cuddy recognized the look on his face. It wasn't a smile, it was a smirk, that cruel condescending face that preceded the types of revelation-style statements he loved to hurl at the people who irritated him. She wished she could hear the words he leaned down to speak, but she knew what would inevitably follow. The woman turned away from the bar, with a look of shocked irritation, fleeing as quickly as she could. She pushed through the crowd and rushed past Cuddy's seat muttering, "What a fucking asshole!"

Cuddy smirked at the familiarity of his actions, admitting in spite of herself that she missed his rude, condescending behavior from time to time. She watched as he took a moment to see the young woman storm off, clearly pleased with his achievement, and then went back to work. Surprisingly there were a number of tips lined along the edge of the bar that he'd occasionally scoop up and shove into his jeans pocket. He looked…comfortable, much as if he belonged there the same way he always seemed to belong sitting behind his desk toying with various items as he thought through his latest puzzle.

A woman emerged from the back room, carrying boxes of liquor and restocking shelves, moving around him effortlessly. When she finished, she took a long pull from a bottle of water, and helped with the crowd that had gathered in front of the bar. He leaned back against his seat after they cleared the lines of waiting patrons and she walked to stand next to him. He took the water from her hand, drank some himself and returned the bottle to her. She was completely unphased by the familiarity of his actions, which caught Cuddy's immediate attention. The woman clearly wasn't his type. She was tall, for a woman, had short dark hair and deep brown eyes. She was dressed…well, much like House, complete with a well-worn printed tee shirt and jeans, although she replaced his usual sneakers with thicker, slip-resistant shoes. The two carried on a private conversation, despite the crowd, one or the other of them handling the patrons as they approached the bar. The woman looked at her watch, handed him her water bottle and headed toward the stage. She belted out a blues piece with a voice strong and sweet and undeniably feminine, despite her androgynous exterior. Cuddy wondered about the exact relationship between House and this woman, with whom he was undeniably familiar but didn't seem to regard with the same lascivious glances he was known for with the women in his life. As she left the small stage she returned to his side, at one point placing a hand on his arm, and leaning in to whisper something to him. What surprised Cuddy even more was his reaction to her touch. He didn't scowl down at the offending hand, swat it away or pull back from her. He merely leaned into her whisper, concentrating on her words and after a few moments, smiled at whatever she had been saying as if it were amusing. He stood, filling the requests of people that signaled from the bar.

"Can I get you a drink?" a deep voice asked from behind Cuddy. She turned, looking over her shoulder to see who was speaking to her. He was young, likely in his mid-twenties, but broad, muscular and unbelievably tall. He was handsome, a fact that he was likely acutely aware of, but he had a kind face and a friendly smile. He sat down on one of the chairs at her table and leaned in closer waiting for an answer.

"Oh, no thanks," she said, forcing a smile, "I was just on my way out."

"You should stay," he smiled, his green eyes glancing along her features.

"I was supposed to meet someone, but actually I think I'm in the wrong place," she said, as she placed her hands flat on the table to leave.

He placed a large hand down over one of hers, "Wait. Hang out, have a drink or two. I'm not a creep, I promise."

"I'm sure you aren't," she replied, offering an obligatory smile through tightly pressed lips. She kept trying to push her seat back from the table and realized the legs of the chair wouldn't slide across the floor. As she tried to free her chair, she saw movement at the table behind her as several people moved around. She looked under her seat, trying to appear calm and completely in control, and get out of the situation without drawing any attention to herself. Her young companion looked behind her, sighed, and said, "I better go, but I'm usually here on the weekends. Come back soon so I can buy you that drink," and left as suddenly as he had appeared.

As he walked away, two large sneaker-clad feet crossed and plopped unceremoniously on the chair next to her. Cuddy looked around confused by what had made the man so quickly back away, until she heard the one voice that could evoke an entire spectrum of emotion in an instant, "I'm pretty sure your being here makes it difficult for me to comply with the restraining order you have against me. Maybe if you are way in that corner over there, and I go to the opposite corner…let me get my yard stick."

She stiffened somewhat, sitting up straighter. "Hey," she said, sounding less confident than she wanted.

His chair was directly behind hers, the rubber stopper of his cane and one of the legs of his chair pinning her firmly in place. She turned slowly to look at him, just glancing over her shoulder as she realized how close he was to her. She saw the faintest smile cross his lips, almost imperceptibly, as he held her gaze for a millisecond and then looked forward. He moved his cane and scooted his chair over just enough to free her if she wanted to escape.

Another band took the stage to perform. Cuddy's attention turned to the band, trying to look as if she were interested in the show while she decided what to do in the next few moments.

"Not bad," House said, nodding toward the stage.

"Quite good," she answered.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice soft and void of malice.

She could barely hear him over the sound of the music and the crowd, but knew what he was asking from his look and diverted gaze. When she didn't answer, he asked a longer, clearly more specific question that she couldn't hear at all. She turned her chair so she was directly facing his side and she leaned in a bit, over her knees and gestured toward her ear so he knew she didn't hear the question.

"What are you doing here?" he repeated.

"I'm traveling, and I heard this place was really…" she trailed off when she caught the incredulous look on his face. "I don't know," she said, her voice becoming hesitant.

He nodded without further question, seemingly understanding her uncertainty.

"You do realize that by you being here, I could go to back to jail," he said, after leaning toward her ear to ensure that she could hear him over the background noise, "I'd prefer not to go back if I can avoid it."

The smell of her overwhelmed him as his eyes traced the curve of her ear, the line of her jaw and her long slender neck, and fought the impulse to bury his face against her and remain there indefinitely.

"That was dissolved months ago, you didn't realize?"

He just shrugged. They listened in silence for a few minutes.

"I thought you'd be a lot angrier," she stated calmly, leaning in toward him.

He didn't answer or acknowledge the question in any way. After several moments he leaned into her ear again, "Is it Rachel, Wilson or…your mother?" he asked, just as the music ended.

He sat back in his chair, loosely crossing his arms over his chest and allowing himself to look at her. She met his gaze, surprised to find subtle evidence of concern. "What?" she asked, shaking her head.

"It's gotta be either Rachel, Wilson, or your mom," he said, his voice certain but expression questioning.

"What about them?"

"I've wondered what circumstances could cause our paths to cross. Now, I think its painfully clear that coincidence didn't bring you here, because you would never just happen to be in this area, and choose this place for a drink, so that means you found out where I was, and came here intentionally. I've also wondered…from time to time…why you'd purposefully seek me out. We both know it's not for you, because you'd never put yourself through having to see me again for your own health. I'm hoping it's not for your mom, I'm guessing it's not. She's too old and near natural death to warrant having to deal with this insufferable bastard. Which leaves Rachel or Wilson. Which one of them has an undiagnosed problem, or…maybe they've been diagnosed but you're looking for someone insane enough to try an unapproved and unbelievably risky treatment?"

She raised her eyebrows in response to his analysis, thinking for a moment, "They aren't sick."

Her brow furrowed briefly as her expression became introspective.

"OK," he said stiffly, "Is it…you?"

"No," she said softly, "I'm not sick, or delusional enough to think that if I were sick you would be there for me," she stopped abruptly at her last comment, "sorry, skip that last part, I'm not here to air my grievances and I'm not here for you to save the day."

He nodded, deciding not to react to the criticism embedded in her statement. "Then…really, why are you here?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N-**_Hopefully this fills in some of the blanks. Thanks so much for your interest and reviews!_

**Disclaimer- **_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

**(Rev. 03/17/12)**

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><p>"I told you…I don't know why I'm here. I just wanted to…" she started to say, but was interrupted by another band taking the stage.<p>

His expression became irritated as he scowled at them, "These guys suck!" he said, gesturing toward the stage.

His mouth opened to say something when the woman from behind the bar came over, brushing her hand across his shoulder and walking around to the front of them. House looked up at her, "Just catching up," he said to the younger woman.

She turned, holding out her hand to Cuddy, "Kate, and you are?" she asked, her face undeniably friendly and her eyes studying Cuddy with interest.

"Lisa," she said, returning the handshake. Kate held Cuddy's hand momentarily and loosened her grip just enough for Cuddy to remove her hand.

"New boss…" House said, looking at Kate, "Meet old boss."

"You are _Cuddy_?" Kate asked, looking over her approvingly and nodding. She looked at House, showing some surprise, before returning her gaze to Cuddy, "It's really nice to meet you!"

She looked at House who said, "I'm gonna take a few more minutes here, then I'll be up to help."

"No, its fine, take your time, I've got it under control," Kate flashed a wide grin at House, "Lisa, it was a pleasure meeting you, hopefully, I'll see you around again," she walked away, turning to House and mouthing "wow," silently but not at all subtly.

House's shoulders shook with a silent chuckle as he turned back to Cuddy with a brief smile. "You gonna tell me what's going on then?" he asked, still mostly avoiding her gaze.

"I just…I should go, I'm sorry I came here, I shouldn't have intruded," she said, trying to stand.

He put a hand against her elbow to stop her and withdrew it almost immediately at the contact, "You aren't intruding. I _am_ sorry, Cuddy," he took a deep breath and shook his head, realizing this could be the last time he would ever see her, and his window to deliver an apology was quickly closing.

He did something he rarely had done: he discussed his feelings without thinking through his disclosure carefully. "I understand the magnitude of my fuck-up. I'm not just talking about crashing into your house, because the reality is that I did that metaphorically so many times before that day…so many. Hopefully the fact that I have so rarely said it, makes it clear just how sincere I am now. I don't expect you to accept my apology, but I want you to know…that you mattered to me. There aren't many people I can say that about in a positive way…because most people matter because of my lingering resentment toward them, or my out-and-out hatred of them. I wish there was so much I could change, but even if I could do it all over again, we both know I'd fuck up, just as badly, all over again, no matter what my intentions."

At that point he finally looked up at her, and saw her face, emotionless, watching intently without passing judgment. He continued, speaking hurriedly, "Thank you for all you did for me. If you need to leave now, I understand, but I want your last memory of me to be slightly better than the one I left with you last time."

He took a deep breath and let it out, finally allowing his gaze to settle on her. "Thank you," she said sincerely, "I wish I would have…" she paused, and he could almost see the memories flashing behind her eyes, "you aren't the only one that made mistakes, House."

He waited for her to disappear after that statement, but she sat there in the chair, eyes downcast, staring at her own hands that were still in her lap. "You better get back to work, I guess," she said.

"Yea…you know how bosses can be," he huffed exaggeratedly.

She looked toward the door then up to the bar, "You guys have decent gin?"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and nodded. She gestured up toward the bar as she rose. She sat in the center of three empty stools and watched as he rounded to the back, pouring her a drink and setting it in front of her, tapping the bar next to the glass. He walked down the bar, getting drinks for other patrons and when he was finished he stood near her, leaning down facing her slightly off to one side. "Still into rabbit food?"

She shook head affirmatively. "Believe it or not," he continued, patting an imaginary gut, "this dive has some pretty incredible food. Care to put your culinary needs in my hands?"

She shrugged, "Sure, why not."

He walked back toward the kitchen to talk to one of the cooks. When he returned to the spot in front of her he said, "Well, the kitchen's getting ready to close up, so the options are limited, but they'll get you a little something."

She smiled at him, turning her attention back to the final band.

He placed an amazing salad in front of her that she never would have expected at a place like this. He continued to serve drinks and return to his spot in front her each time. For the most part the flood of questions that rolled around in their respective heads was silenced in favor of reacquainting themselves with the feeling of being in each other's presence.

The customers began to filter out of the bar, the final band packing up their things for the night. House looked at Cuddy, "I'll be right back," he said, hoping that she understood that he wanted the opportunity to say goodbye if she was going to leave.

She still sat, picking at her food, and sipping her drink. Kate walked up behind the bar, "You need another drink?" she asked Cuddy.

"I'm good," Cuddy replied, covering the glass with her hand.

"I was actually starting to wonder if you were just a figment of his imagination, thought maybe he made you up so people wouldn't think he was gay."

Cuddy smiled. "You own this place?"

"Yea, believe it or not, he makes a decent bartender."

"I never would have pictured him willingly working in a place filled with people," Cuddy observed.

"It's only one day a week, the rest of the time he's properly sequestered," Kate smiled at Cuddy, leaning against the counter facing her. "You know, if you need a place for the night, or even the weekend..."

Cuddy opened her mouth to speak but didn't produce any words. Kate continued, "You don't have to answer right now, if you decide hang out for a few days, just let House know, we have plenty of room."

"Stop talking about my ass!" House interrupted loudly, emerging from the kitchen. "Shove off boss lady! You have enough horny coeds to keep you busy. Besides, don't you have drunks to kick out and paperwork to finish?" he said to Kate, pushing her toward the other end of the bar with a mischievous glare.

House looked down at Cuddy, picking some of the food from her plate.

"You seem really comfortable with her," Cuddy said, still uncertain as to exactly what the relationship was between them.

"Do I?"

"Yea. You and I…were never like that."

"You and I were…different. It's all about extremes with us, fighting or fucking, allies or adversaries, we have no real concept of a middle ground."

She nodded, "So why's she different?"

"Than you?" he asked, tapping his finger on his lips thoughtfully, "Umm. She's taller, she has smaller boobs and…she owns a bar…"

Cuddy looked admonishingly at him. He continued, "She also likes chicks. A lot. She's like a Cuddy-Wilson combo, with the desire to rank women on do-ability, while maintaining a body well worth looking at, and irritatingly, does occasionally try to fill the role of moral compass for me. Nearly the perfect friend. She also has absolutely no desire whatsoever to have sex with me. I think I may do better with women when I know I don't have a chance of getting them into bed," he smiled.

"I'm heading out," Kate interrupted from across the room. "You wanna lock up for me or you need me to wait?"

House looked at Cuddy, passing the question on to her, and she nodded.

"I'll close up in a few," he answered.

"It's been great meeting you, Lisa, if he decides to act like his usual asshole self, I'd more than willing to…" Kate smiled at Cuddy and stopped when she saw House's sneer. "Kidding…I'm kidding! Hopefully I'll see you around!" She waved with a little flourish and a broad grin toward House as she stepped out the back door, leaving the two of them completely alone.

The quiet was almost deafening, the bar nearly reinvented without its crowd. "Are you worried…about being here, alone, with me?" he asked, as he nervously looked around, clearly a bit uncomfortable with their current situation, "I can call Kate, have her come back, or we can go out, there's an all-night diner, it's more public…"

"I'm not worried," she answered quietly.

He took her dishes into the kitchen and cleaned them up, walking back out into the bar to see her staring at the blank TV screen absently. He walked around to her side of the bar, slid a drink over to her, while keeping one for himself, and sat down, leaving a stool between them.

"OK, Cuddy, I've been pretty patient, but you seem…really distracted and if I chose to be entirely honest, I'd tell you that I can't get a good read on the blank stare you're wearing. Is this business? Are you sure Wilson is OK?"

"Wilson's…Wilson. He's good, just got remarried, I honestly think this one may stick," she chuckled slightly, "I don't see him much. I'm not here on business. Business would be easier."

House nodded. "How's Rachel?" he asked, as he ran his finger along the newly beading condensation on his glass.

"House, you hated Rachel, you don't have to pretend that you want to know…"

He held a defensive hand up as he interrupted, "I didn't _hate_ her and I'm not pretending to be concerned, I'm just making conversation and trying to figure out what you are doing here in the middle of the night in a bar that I don't think you would have set foot in three years ago. If you recall Rachel and I were doing alright, given that I'm terrible with kids. We weren't exactly besties but, we tolerated each other…so don't accuse me of hating her."

"You wished I never brought her home. I know that."

"For a while, yea. But you were important enough to me, I made the efforts I was capable of making at the time. It wasn't about Rachel, it was about me. Anyway, let's just...just answer the damn question and brag about your kid like every other parent on the face of the planet. How is she, does she do well in school, does she maybe dance or play soccer? I'm trying, meet me half way."

Cuddy stared forward, softly thumping her fist against the bar. "I'm sure you'll get some kind of twisted satisfaction out of this…" Cuddy stopped speaking, trying to steady her breathing, "she's…gone."

"I thought once the adoption went through all of that was settled? What did the…the grandparents come back or…what?"

"She's fucking dead. She's gone. Dead. My whole pursuit of unconditional love, motherhood dream…it's all over!" Her voice was loud and angry, showing the first signs of real emotion.

"Why didn't you come find me before it was too late? I would have helped, I would have done whatever I could have done to save her!" now he sounded on the verge of anger, which was the only real reaction he could have in that moment that didn't involve running out the door, "I know I wasn't daddy dearest, but I wasn't a complete asshole to her!"

Cuddy faced him, but kept her eyes focused on the wall behind him. "It wasn't something you could help with. Rachel was surrounded by doctors her entire life. Brilliant doctors, at my disposal in an instant, but, even the most brilliant people can't cheat death every time."

House looked at her questioningly, but didn't speak.

She sighed, took a breath, her eyes barely forming tears, and she continued. "She was waiting for the bus. Some sixteen year-old high school student was…drunk…hit her with his car. The girl who was standing next to her is paralyzed. Rachel was killed instantly. By the time I got to her, all reasonable efforts were already made and ceased."

He couldn't hide his shock, or cover his confusion. His arm moved out to the side and he leaned awkwardly toward her ever so slightly. For a moment she thought he was going to hug her…he thought he may too, until she said, "You don't have to try to comfort me, House," she laughed bitterly. "If I wanted someone to coddle me or tell me it was all going to be OK, I'd be visiting Wilson."

He nodded and settled in his seat. She looked up, brushing the few tears from her eyes and calming her breath. "It's so fucking ironic that so much of my life has been impacted by impaired jackasses driving beat up cars…and…children…some things…some things just aren't meant to be. I tried and I…could barely get pregnant, certainly couldn't carry one to term, couldn't manage to adopt one…and I finally…I found one that couldn't get away from me. Now…she's gone too."

House's mouth was open slightly as he watched her. He swallowed, placed his hand up on the bar and slid it forward to where hers was placed in a loose fist, palm down. His hand mirrored her loose fist and he pressed his knuckles just barely to hers. He looked back at her as he reached his long index finger up to place on top of hers and traced the skin on her finger between her hand and knuckle. He was certain she'd pull her hand away, or spit something angrily at him but she remained still. He finally muttered, "I can't even imagine..."

He quickly shut his mouth, trying to avoid saying something stupid. She watched his finger move over hers. The contact was subtle, barely there. It was strange that after all of the kind words, flowers and heartfelt hugs she'd received since the death of her daughter from a myriad of well-wishers, the almost wordless response of an insensitive bastard barely mustering the strength to make contact was a shockingly meaningful gesture.

"When?" he asked.

"It's been almost six months," she scoffed. "Six months and I still don't know what in the hell I'm doing. I…I don't know why I'm here, telling you this…I…hate you..." she said without malice.

"I hate you too Cuddy," he said, with a soft tone and gentle smile that indicated the words clearly didn't match his feelings.

He looked at her, wishing he knew what he could do that would make her stop feeling the things that she was feeling. She was silent soon enough, her face becoming blank and stoic. He pulled his hand back to his drink. It was obvious to him that she didn't want to discuss the situation further. "You look tired. Where are you staying?"

She didn't answer his question.

"This isn't a proposition, I'm trying to be somewhat decent for once. I live near here, I have a room at Kate's. Stay there, you can have my room, or the sofa, wherever you are comfortable. Pretty sure Kate wouldn't mind you sneaking in on her either if that would be better…" he said raising his brows suggestively.

Cuddy laughed silently. "OK. I think you are possibly the first guy that has ever responded to the phrase 'I hate you' with 'want to crash at my place'."

"I seriously doubt that. Most men are willing to follow absolutely anything a hot woman says to them with 'wanna crash at my place.' Really, sometimes she doesn't even need to be that hot. Look…you can get some rest. This is…awkward for both of us, you're almost as bad at discussing feelings as I am, but you chose to come here and, for some reason that currently evades me, I'm choosing to not push you away. If you feel like it, we could catch up a bit, or you can have a couple of hours to tell me how much you hate me after you've had some rest. You could buy me breakfast, I hope you brought your platinum card," he added, trying to diffuse some of the tension.

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><p><strong>AN2-**_No, I don't hate Rachel, but as almost anyone with a kid, or who has been really close to a kid, can attest, the thought of losing a child is probably the most catastrophic thing they can imagine, so poor Rachel was a victim of my plot …Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**-_ Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House MD_

**(Rev 03/17/12)**

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><p>House woke in the morning as he did every morning, gripping and rubbing his thigh until he could swing his leg out of the bed and walk some of the stiffness out of it. He emerged from the bathroom, limping through his room and into the kitchen for coffee. Just as the night's events came back to him, he saw movement from the sofa as Cuddy stretched her legs and tugged the blanket up around her shoulders. House scratched his head, fighting the impulse to run out the door before she woke. He clenched his jaw and sat at the kitchen table with his coffee and a medical journal that he leafed through, but couldn't seem to successfully read.<p>

Cuddy's eyes opened and the first thing she saw was the back of the sofa. She sat up, running her fingers quickly through her hair and remembering the events of the last evening. She looked out into the kitchen and saw House leaning over the table, his head propped up by a hand on his forehead as he read. His new home was nothing like Cuddy had expected, a pleasant single family suburban home well-furnished and exceptionally clean, the place looked more like the home of an ordinary suburban couple than any place House would call home. When she had agreed to come, she expected a tiny, dingy two bedroom apartment littered with ash trays and books. There were books and journals, lining shelves all around the living room, which looked more like a library than any living room she had ever seen; books, and a gigantic TV she felt certain belonged to House. She slipped quietly into the bathroom he had shown her the night before and walked out to the kitchen, thoroughly regretting that she had agreed to stay. "Morning," he said with mock cheerfulness, "coffee's over there."

He pointed over to the coffee pot, finally looking up from his journal and smirking slightly as he saw the mass of hair scattered around her head. "Shut up," she groaned as she walked toward the coffee pot.

A woman emerged from the other bedroom and stood in front of House, hands on her hips, "Where the fuck is she?"

He continued to stare at his reading, "Oh goodie! I was beginning to worry I'd go an entire week without one of our scintillating conversations. In case you forgot from our last discussion, a conversation is wh…"

"Shut up House!" the young woman barked with great irritation, "I don't feel like talking to you either, you miserable prick, where's Kate?"

"I'm going to have to talk that girl, she just completely forgot to tell daddy where she was going again," he said in an obviously patronizing tone.

She looked at Cuddy, "and who the fuck is that?"

Cuddy looked around, suddenly feeling as if she were in the middle of a situation she didn't want to be anywhere near. "Kate and I hired her last night for…" he stopped, pleased that he'd evoked Cuddy's trademark 'House-you-had-better-shut-up-or-else' look despite her depressed state.

He wore a proud grin and continued, "She's a friend of mine, so…since Kate clearly isn't here, don't feel you need to stay on my account."

The woman grumbled out of the room, gathering her belongings and heading out the door. Cuddy dropped into a chair at the table with her coffee, waiting for an explanation from House that wasn't forthcoming. Moments later, a woman in a nice business suit pushed through the front door, kicking off her shoes, "Rough day at the office, honey?" House called to her.

Cuddy could barely believe her eyes when she realized this sophisticated, professional woman was House's roommate. The woman tossed a pile of yellow envelopes down onto the table, "Take a peak would ya?" she asked House, distracted by looting the refrigerator.

She walked over to the table, sitting between House and Cuddy, waiting while House opened the folders and looked through various scans and paperwork. "You missed your little friend by a few minutes, she was slightly irritated by the not-hereness of you this morning," House said to Kate as he held an MRI image up to the light above the table. He stopped reviewing the image and looked at her directly, "Why is it that you get all of the sex, and I get all of the morning-after awkwardness?"

"I guess I'm smarter then you," Kate retorted, "Anyway, there wasn't sex last night, I got called in on my way home. She must have let herself in again. We have got to change the code!"

"You're a doctor?" Cuddy asked suspiciously.

"Penn," she answered, "Psych."

"You don't really have emergencies in Psych," House chided.

"What do you see…the brain scan?" Kate asked.

"Isn't it funny," he said scoffing, "that there are three people at this table, two of them have licenses but aren't real doctors and one is a real doctor without a license?"

Cuddy and Kate simultaneously rolled their eyes in annoyance. "I see…nothing" he answered, handing the series of scans to Cuddy.

After a few moments, Cuddy shrugged and handed the scans back to Kate, "Nothing here."

"This guy killed his family. Claims there was a brain tumor, which caused psychosis, and personality changes. Our scans from last night…no tumors, at all, but the one his neurologist sent…from a month ago, well, let's just say you wouldn't have to look hard. Just wanted to know if you saw any anomalies I may have missed. I'm tired…I'm going to bed," Kate stood from the table and went to her bedroom.

"She doesn't even look like the same person," Cuddy observed.

"I know, I tried to convince her to wear her Cuddy-clothes when not working and her bar-clothes at the hospital but she's not buying it."

"Not many doctors own bars…" Cuddy continued.

"Family thing, it was her father's"

"You met at the bar?"

"I work with her, at Penn"

"YOU work at the psych ward at a teaching hospital? Who does their hiring?" she asked dryly.

House flickered a smile at her questions, "No. Please! Who in the hell would hire me for that?"

"Who would hire you at all," Cuddy said with a clearly self-deprecating tone.

"I decided research was the way to go. Under the terms of my parole I had to live in Jersey...so I got approval to live here and take a drive across the river for work purposes. I met Kate there, she was a convenient way out of the shitty apartment I was living in when I first got here...almost two years ago. Parole's been up for a while, but…I'm comfortable here. How about you?"

Cuddy hesitated before answering so House continued, "So you aren't afraid to be locked alone with me in a bar, or come back to my place at 3am, but you are afraid to tell me where you are working, OK…"

"No, it isn't that. I'm just preparing myself for what you are going to say."

"If you became an exotic dancer, I'll drop everything and move closer."

She half chuckled at his traditional objectifying flattery. "I'm not a dancer, exotic or otherwise," she quickly denied, "After…everything happened in Princeton…I sold my home and decided I was done with the high powered, high stress lifestyle and I needed a change. I figured I could spend more time with…Rachel, and try to just get rid of all of the complications. I moved to Baltimore to work in a small clinic."

"You quit being the Dean of Medicine…to do clinic hours, voluntarily, all day, every day?" House asked in a tone that suggested her new job was a fate worse than death.

"Well…there were regular hours, few responsibilities outside of the work day, and I actually quit to get far away from you…I couldn't look at anything at that hospital without having some memory of you attached to it."

"OK," he acknowledged.

"There's more…" she said, taking a deep breath and saying as quickly as she could, "I soon realized they were poorly managed, and started to look at all of the problems that plagued the place. I made some suggestions and within three months I was running the clinic and I was asked to consolidate and run two sister clinics."

House looked at her with a hint of admiration that he tried to promptly cover with a forced look of disgust, "So you finally shook the administrative skin and then decided you couldn't live without it?"

She smiled, tight lipped, and nodded, "I know, go ahead do your worst, I'm ready for the string of insults."

"No…Cuddy, that's…honestly impressive, you just can't shake your inner control-freak!"

"I can't," she agreed. "I can't believe you aren't going to treat me to a barrage of administrator jokes that you've had stored all of these years? I guess they're rusty."

"No…I use them on Kate, with slight alterations as situationally appropriate to keep my skills honed," he said, using the tone of an expert discussing his craft, "I just feel that if you are anticipating them, some of the spontaneity will be compromised, so I'll have to wait until your defenses are lowered."

"You're an ass," she stated.

"Agreed."

Her expression changed quickly, "I'm heading to the Outer Banks. Two weeks. A friend gave me the key to her place, so I could try to…get away…sort of…reset my brain a bit. Do you…want to come?"

"You're suggesting a vacation? With me?"

"I've handled you for years House. I can deal with you."

"Umm…last I recall you handled me by running away."

"I ran from you one damn time, after the hundreds of times you ran out on me! Let's not sugar coat it, you didn't slash my tires or sabotage my office…You could have killed me."

"No, you ran from me on more than one occasion. And I wasn't trying to kill you. I'm…I apologize for my behavior after you dumped me for one fucking slip-up. Is that what you want?"

"It wasn't 'one' slip-up! And afterwards, you were spiraling downward at an alarming rate."

"What did you expect from me? You know me, probably as well as anyone, maybe better. Did you think I'd sulk and rip up some pictures and be fine? You and I were in the making for over twenty years, finally gave things a try and you dropped me out in the cold over what was really nothing."

"I don't think relapse is 'nothing'! You've always made an art form out of trying to hurt me, and succeeding. Your wedding day was one of the worst days of my life."

"You knew what that was. You knew it wasn't emotionally relevant."

"It was to me!"

"You knew damn well that she didn't mean anything to me. I know I spiraled, I could blame my monumental relapse but the truth is you hurt me Cuddy. Worse than anyone ever has, and what made it worse was that I really trusted you. I had just resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn't give you up for anything, and you gave up on me."

"I had to end it. I had other people to think about besides myself."

"I never would have hurt Rachel."

"You did a lot of things I thought you'd never do."

His look was firm as he said, "I know."

"Where is your _wife_?"

"She dumped me. Shocking!" he said, trying to sound less tense but failing miserably. "Turns out the USCIS looks into applications a bit more intensely when the sponsoring spouse is arrested for domestic violence against a different woman. She spooked right after it happened, was granted a very easy divorce and I believe headed back home, or perhaps on to husband number two. For some reason she was worried about doing time for defrauding the federal government. Women!"

Cuddy nodded, disliking the sense of relief that she felt in knowing the woman was gone, but feeling it flood her nonetheless. She said, barely above a whisper, "I never wanted to hurt you like that."

House tensed and could see Cuddy bracing herself for the next words that would come from his mouth. He knew he didn't want to go down that path with her while she was in her current frame of mind, so he deflected. "So why come here? You said you don't know…I think you do. I am a terrible person, Cuddy. I've been a terrible person during our entire mutual history. I think I've made…modest improvements, and by modest I mean barely noticeable, but why would you want to be around me, especially right now? I'm not what you need."

She stood from the table and walked toward the patio doors to gaze outside, her arms wrapped around her own torso. "For someone who flaunts lying, you are…usually brutally honest when it comes to me. I don't…feel much anymore. I figured if there's ever anyone that had experience with being devoid of compassion…" she trailed off, not wanting to intentionally hurt him, but feeling the meaning had been conveyed. "Everyone I talk to looks at me with this…this look of sympathy and pity, and I can't stand it anymore. I don't want sympathy, I just want…" She moved her hands through the air as she was looking for the words, frustrated with her inability to convey her thoughts, "I want this, fucking pit of ache to subside enough to feel anything else. It's all I can feel, it has consumed me, and even that is…it's starting to dull into this unending throb."

House nodded, barely moving his head, but she could see the understanding in his eyes. "I used to cry," she continued, "a lot. Every moment I was alone. I buried myself in work, and even you would be impressed by just _how_ much I was able to bury myself in work, and when I wasn't there, I made sure I was alone. Then, one day the crying was gone. A few tears here and there…sometimes I get angry…but that's it. Everyone tells me it takes time…I'm stuck here. I kept thinking of you, because you are the only human being on the planet that is _more_ miserable."

House put his hand to his jaw and stared off, calmly thinking. "So you are hoping I'll be an asshole?"

"No. I'm hoping you'll just, be you. I don't want to make the drive alone, because, I just don't feel like listening to the words in my head for hours, and at the same time I don't want someone feeding me the canned lines of support that are supposed to somehow make me feel better and just end up irritating me."

"Cuddy, what happens when we get there, or…half way there, and you decide you can't stand being near me for another minute?"

"If that happens," she started.

"_When_ that happens," he interjected.

"Fine…_when _that happens, I'll pay to fly you back, or if we aren't near an airport, I'll rent you your own car."

"This is a mistake," he said with certainty.

"I figured you'd say that," she said, forcing a smile, "I want you to come anyway."

He tried again to break the tension in the air, "Are you hoping to use me to vent your pent up sexual frustration? Take out all of your anger on the innocent by-standing cripple with a gigantic…"

"No, House," she interrupted before he could finish the thought. "I promise I won't use you like a sexual punching bag."

"Damn," he responded, flashing her a smirk until she rolled her eyes, "Kidding, Cuddy."

"I have to check in with my boss, I don't know if I can get the time off..."

"You care?"

"The world is safest when I'm busy. I don't miss work much."

She looked at him with a look of surprise. "Being busy keeps me out of trouble…for the most part… Remember, I told you this was a mistake. It always is. Don't be surprised when you eventually regret coming to find me," he said somberly.

"I know," she answered, looking away. "Don't have that much to lose, do I?"

They settled into silence, each feeling the ominous creeping of something on the horizon. "I better call my boss."

"It's Sunday," she responded.

"You really did forget the joys of having this genius work for you. When has day of the week or time of day stopped me?"

She smiled a smile that was nearly genuine, "True. Would you mind if I got a shower?"

He nodded, "Use mine, never can tell how many girls are waiting in Kate's. You should be able to find everything you need."

She mumbled her thanks and turned to leave. He noticed that, almost on unstoppable impulse, he tilted his head to watch her walk away. He sighed, damn she still looked good.

He tried to return to reading his journal but couldn't ignore the feeling that he wished she hadn't shown up the night before, and knowing just the same, that now that they had met again, it would be even harder to let go.

She walked into his bedroom and looked around. The furniture was different, although a few of the same items were strewn around the room. There was less clutter, and things were clearly more orderly than they had been when last she'd been in his bedroom. She sat down on the bed, fascinated by the space that seemed so quintessentially _him_. The smells, the general feeling of the room was the same. She marveled at the strangeness of knowing someone so long that in so many ways was always kept at arm's length. Perhaps 'familiar strangeness' defined so much of them. She ventured into the bathroom, not wanting him to catch her lingering there in his bedroom, feeling oddly comforted to be surrounded by his things. She was adjusting the water and stood upright, placing her hand on her forehead, and said aloud, "I must be completely insane."

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><p><strong>AN 2-** USCIS is the United States Citizenship and Immigration Service (Used to be the INS).


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: ** The characters of House still belong to people who completely don't appreciate them

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><p>House made the necessary phone calls and then snuck into Kate's room to wake her as Cuddy showered. He sat down on her bed next to her, shook her arm to get her attention and said, "Need you to cover my shift for a couple of weeks."<p>

Kate rubbed her eyes. "You OK?" she asked, sitting up to make sure she was paying attention to him without drifting back to sleep.

"Going away with Cuddy. I'll be back as soon as she gets sick of me."

"Is this for a job?"

"Nope"

"No way! Oh my god House, this is so huge!"

"You sound like Wilson, shut up. It's not huge."

"It is! So maybe she sees that you've grown?"

"I haven't grown, I don't change."

"You do! You have! Subtly I guess, but…"

"I'm still the same miserab…"

"Stop…enough," Kate said emphatically, "I know, I know, you are a terrible, horrible man completely unworthy of happiness…the mantra's getting old House."

"See, I told you I haven't changed," he answered.

"You must have. She knows you well, why would she be extending an invitation to you otherwise?"

"Because she sees I _haven't_ changed, and she's looking for me to be exactly as I am, like some sort of infuriating constant," he paused thinking before continuing, "her daughter died, she doesn't know what the hell she's doing."

"Oh fuck…that's…awful, is she OK?"

"Not really"

"Be there for her to the degree you're able. And remember, seriously House, you have to remember this…when you don't know what to say, or if you are about to say something monumentally stupid, just shut your mouth and say nothing. I'm not saying that because it's you! I'd give the same advice to anyone dealing with a grieving parent."

"The very fact that she came to find me _proves_ she's completely lost touch with reality"

"Just let things unfold House, accept them as they happen, and accept that maybe _something_ good could possibly come from this screwed up mess," Kate said, trying to remain calm and reassuring.

"Nothing good is going to come. She wants an asshole to hang out with so she isn't alone right now. Someone she can count on to NOT be kind. Strangely, I came to mind."

"Be you, but try to temper it with a little kindness. She looks beat up. Don't let _her_ expectation of you become your own self-fulfilling prophecy."

"This will not end well. I'll get to say 'I told you so' soon enough"

"Of course. Because being right is _so _much more important than anything else. Screw your messed up expectations, I'm excited anyway. Your shift is covered, go! I hope you guys connect…have actual conversations. For once, shut your holier-than-thou mouth and hear what she has to say when she's talking, NOT your interpretation of what she has to say. Now give me a hug."

"Don't think so!" he said trying to stand as she pulled him into a half hug. "God you're annoying. Why are we friends?" he said as he wriggled free from her grasp.

"I'll miss you!" she said in a syrupy sweet voice designed to make him cringe.

"Still can't stand you!" he half sung on his way out the door.

He stopped just as the door was nearly shut, "Thanks Kate. Don't forget where the emergency bail money is!" he said, flashing his eyes widely before retreating from the room.

When they were both ready, they gathered their things and left in his car. They parked his car safely behind the bar in favor of her newer, roomier car and began their seven hour journey down the eastern seaboard to North Carolina. "So you didn't have a problem getting vacation?" she inquired, breaking the silence.

"Nope, took two and half weeks. That way, even if you decide to kick me out of the car on the way home, it gives me a few days to figure out how to get back."

"I won't just leave you by the side of the road"

House nodded toward her hands on the steering wheel, "So you're married or...were married?" he asked out of the blue.

"No," she answered, the hesitance obvious in her voice. "Why…would you think that?"

"You have a tan line and an indent around your ring finger."

"No I don't"

"OK, so you don't, just wanted to gauge your reaction, without having to worry about whether or not you are telling the truth"

"I am. Why would I lie?"

"Because…traditionally I have reacted poorly to you dating men who are not me"

"Fair enough. Do we have to play this game?"

"Yes, yes we do. It's how we do things. Perhaps over the next few hours I'll do a retrospective to highlight some of the more brilliant schemes I've hatched over our years together, because you seem to forget some really pertinent details about me…which…is likely _why_ you were willing to spend time with me. Because, if you remembered, you'd probably agree that the Wilson option is the smarter choice."

"I have a proposition for you"

"Are we back to the sexual punching bag idea?"

"No. I just want to set some guidelines"

"Did we talk about the fact that I don't work for you anymore?"

"Yes…quit being an ass for five minutes. I say that we try to just talk like adults. I mean, feel free to lace with innuendo and make immature comments, I'm not trying to stifle you completely. But, let's just talk. Ask questions, answer questions, and let's…try not to lie. I know that screws with your world view, but I'd appreciate it. For once I can truly handle your full-on honesty right now without it hurting me."

"You think that now, but you'll keep mental tally of each mean thing I say, and when you start getting back to normal, you'll be mad at me for each of the items on the list," he said with a tone of certainty.

"You already said I was going to kick you out of the car, that…I' m going remember and hate you even more… If you are prepared for that eventuality already, does it do any harm to be honest? Go ahead and piss me off if the outcome's inevitable anyway."

He thought for a few moments. "What if one of us doesn't want to answer a question"

"Then we just _say_ we don't want to answer it, like normal adults"

"By not answering you'll assume there's a specific answer, or I'll assume there's an answer…"

"Never mind," she interrupted, "God you're still so damn infuriating!"

He smiled, "I knew I could still get to you. Alright, I'll do it. But no pouty 'he won't answer this question or that question' crap. I'm not promising anything, but I'll make an effort."

"Good," she answered feeling as if she had attained a small victory.

"OK," he said, somewhat mischievously, "So you weren't married, were you seeing anyone?"

"In the last 3 years? Yes."

"How many guys have you seen?"

"Getting right to the core I see. A few dates here or there, but really just one that stuck around."

He watched her intently. She seemed to be telling the truth without hesitation. "Was it serious?"

At that she sighed, "It was supposed to be. We saw each other for about a year. He started to talk about an engagement. I…wasn't ready for that. I ended it almost a year ago. He was a nice guy. After he heard about Rachel he came to see me, offered to help with arrangements, even asked me to consider reconciliation. He was, considerate, kind, and…utterly mind-numbing. He was a professor, English Lit. Smart. A really great choice."

"I was wondering if you dumped him to come find me, if perhaps, history was repeating itself…"

"No. It was over a while ago. When he came back, I still couldn't do it."

House nodded saying with disbelief, "I think you were actually honest with me. Was it the guy I saw you with?"

"What? How would you have seen me with him?"

"At your place…in Princeton...you know…"

"Oh god no! You must be joking! I met Matthew in Baltimore. One of the other doctors at the clinic set me up on a date."

House nodded. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what he was thinking in between the questions.

"What about you?" she asked.

"No one of consequence. I told you I'm better off avoiding women that I can get into bed, or I guess more accurately the ones I can get into bed that I might want to hang around with afterwards."

They rode for a long time in complete silence. They stopped for gas after crossing into Virginia. Cuddy pumped gas facing the sun, enjoying the warmth of the June day and waiting for House to return from the convenience store. He stood next to her and held out his hand for the keys. She looked at him with distrust, "Oh I don't know House."

He shook his head, "We're half way. I'll drive the rest." He continued to hold his hand out unwaveringly, finally looking at her right in the eye, "you can trust me...at least with the keys, beyond that, I make no promises."

He was pleased when she returned the nozzle to the gas pump, sealed the gas tank and handed him the keys. She forced a small smile, "OK."

She walked into the convenience store to use the bathroom and realized that she wasn't completely certain he wouldn't leave her there at a gas station along the highway. She squinted as she walked out into the bright light and saw him shoving a sandwich into his mouth, sitting behind the wheel with the car idling, waiting for her. She got in, buckled up and said, "Wait. Before we go, I have to ask…are you…on Vicodin?"

He turned, looking her directly in the eye from only a foot away, "Does it look like I'm on Vicodin?"

"Not really, but I want you to tell me. Are you on anything?"

"No," he replied softly, still holding her gaze, "I have not taken anything since I've been out of jail. Yes, I do still drink, as you probably noticed, and I have no intention of changing that."

"OK"

"OK? That's it, you believe me?"

"You want me to run a urine test here in the parking lot? I thought we were trying to be honest, and I don't think you have anything to gain by lying," she said decisively. "Let's drive."

Cuddy leaned back and slept for quite a while, finally waking as they arrived at the Outer Banks. They looked at the large ocean front properties as they continued down the road until House abruptly pulled over and put the car into park.

"We're still at least a half mile away, what are you doing?" Cuddy asked, concerned with his sudden stop.

"How did you find me? I could see you digging around, finding out about my new job at the hospital, but I didn't hear anything, so I kinda doubt you did. Besides, you didn't show up at the hospital, you showed up at the bar. Even if you did manage to find out about my new job at the hospital, I don't get how you'd find out about me working at that bar."

"We have had over 7 hours of driving to discuss this, and you need to know now?"

"Are you deflecting?"

"No, it just isn't that interesting. Dorman, who used to work in Cardiology in Princeton…his daughter is in school down there, lives near the bar. She took him there for dinner because she said the food was amazing. He recognized you and called me to tell me…he thought it was funny in an 'oh how the mighty have fallen' kind of way."

Just as quickly as he was distracted, he was satisfied with her answer, looked forward, put the car into drive and continued the remaining distance to the home. The place was incredible. Settled right on the ocean front, it was obvious even from the outside the home was amazing. They pulled into the garage and Cuddy winced at the realization that the main floor was up one set of stairs. "I didn't realize there were so many steps just to get in…I'm sorry."

House shrugged off her concerns and went into the home. The lower floor led out to a partially enclosed deck with a hot tub, and directly behind that, the beach. When they made it to the main living floor, each room had large picture windows overlooking the shore. Off the living room there was a porch with rocking chairs and a hammock. Cuddy stepped out onto the porch as House flopped down onto the over-sized sofa, rubbing his sore thigh. She looked out as the waves rolled onto the sandy beach in rhythmic pulses. When she went back inside she found House looking through the wine room off of the kitchen, and emerging with a bottle of scotch that she could only assume was pricy, given the other items in the place.

They had dinner delivered, which he ate in front of the TV and she ate rocking on a chair on the porch. They barely spoke to each other since arriving. After dinner she directed him to bedroom he could use, and shortly thereafter she fell asleep sitting upright on the sofa. He sat watching her and the TV for a few hours, enjoying the scotch and watching her, wondering what he could do to snap through the fog of sadness she was consumed by. He finally moved to his bedroom, which was situated right off of the kitchen and directly next to hers.

In the morning when he woke the place was silent. He repeated his ritual thigh-rub-swing-walk to get himself started before venturing into the open living area to find coffee already made in the kitchen. He walked out onto the patio, squinting at the sunrise, partially irritated that he had woken so early. He was wondering if Cuddy was sleeping in her room when he saw a figure in the distance jogging along the beach. He could tell instantly that it was her. He watched for a while, appreciating the moment to watch her without her noticing. His phone rang and he answered, "What?"

"Get laid last night?" Kate asked.

"Nope"

"At least a little face time?"

"NO! There's not going to be any gossip, or juicy details. What's wrong with you?" he snapped.

"Hmmm…You sound cranky. I find that when I'm cranky I…"

"It's no secret what you'd do"

"Did she kick you out yet?"

"No"

"Actually then I guess that means things are going better than you planned!" Kate added as he noticed her smile over the phone and sneered in response.

"Is she there?"

"No, she's out jogging and doing exercise-y stuff"

Cuddy strode up to the stretch of beach in front of the house to stretch, easily shifting into some yoga poses after catching her breath. He watched her calmly, admiring her form and her graceful control over her movements.

"You are watching her, aren't you? I can hear it."

He rolled his eyes.

"I can hear your eye rolling too," she responded.

"I am watching her, she's… elegant"

"You are so into her! If I didn't think it was an amazingly awesome thing, I'd completely make fun of you."

"This has nothing to do with _feelings_...I'm allowed to appreciate grace and beauty from a purely aesthetic perspective"

"How's she handling the stuff with her daughter?"

"She's not. She's not handling anything, she barely speaks. What do I do?"

"Listen to her"

"There's not much to listen to since she_ isn't talking_."

"She will"

"It's making me insane…it's like she isn't even herself…"

"Because she isn't"

"At least she still looks like her"

"House, seriously, don't fuck this up. You like her. You don't like women"

"I do like women. You've even met her and you're still calling me gay?"

Kate laughed into the phone, "No, I don't think you are gay, I _mean_ you don't find women that you really like…that are attractive to you beyond the physical."

He sighed loudly as he watched Cuddy finish her stretches and start to walk back inside.

"Gotta go!" he said happily, ending the call.

House listened to Cuddy bound up the stairs. She said nothing to him outside of a nodded hello before she went to her bathroom to shower. She left quickly afterward to go to the store for food without asking him if he wanted to join her. Upon her return she silently put the groceries away and fell asleep in her room. He sat watching TV, without paying attention to the flashing images on the screen while he tried to devise a plan to get her to snap out of this.

She finally woke up in the middle of the night to find him watching TV and sipping scotch. She stared out at the ocean. He realized this was one of those times that his action, or lack of action, could impact the outcome of the situation in very different ways. Although he disliked the reality, he truly wanted to help Cuddy. Initially he justified it as a puzzle to be solved, an attempt to find the cure for her unhappiness, but he knew he wanted to repay some of the debt he owed, replace some of what he had taken. He gathered his courage, determined to break through her funk, and rose to his feet to join her on the patio. As he walked, all he could think was, 'I am so not good at this.'

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><p><strong>AN**-had to break here. Once the next section starts there wasn't another good place to stop for a while. Shouldn't take too long since the next part is already written, just needs a bit of editing.

Thanks everyone for reading :) Please review.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer-** you guessed it...not mine.

**A/N**-Thanks again to all of the people who inspire me to continue.

Heavy on the dialogue here-I'm nervous about this one. I hope you like it.

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><p>He walked onto the patio and stood leaning on his elbows against the railing next to her. "It's unbelievable here at night," he stated quietly.<p>

She nodded.

"So whose place is this?" he asked, easing into conversation.

"Wilson's"

"Wilson? I thought you said a 'she' friend gave you the key."

"Yes, Wilson's wife. I guess technically it's her place."

"So he really did get married…again!"

"He did, and he married money. Lots of it. She's an exec for a pharmaceutical company."

"Wilson's in bed with the devil?"

"I thought administrators were the devil," she responded without emotion, staring intently at the waves.

"Oh they are…but an exec is sort of like an administrator and everyone knows the pharmaceutical companies are just out trying to get innocent men hooked on narcotics," he joked.

"Yea," she answered almost inaudibly. She cleared her throat, "He's…happy…she's happy. She doesn't need anything from him…they're together because she likes being around him and he likes being around her. They're actually...in love...or at least it seems that way. Probably doesn't hurt that she's young…29…"

"Go Wilson!"

"Yea…she's tall, elegant and completely beautiful"

"I'm happy for him. I hope it lasts this time. His track record and all," House observed.

"I think it will last, but who knows. I actually like her, which is something I can rarely say about Wilson's women. They're really excited too because…she's pregnant," Cuddy added, forcing a smile, "It was unexpected, but once they thought about it, they were thrilled. They're expecting the baby in September."

The air perceptibly left House's lungs as if he'd been kicked in the gut on her behalf. "I can't imagine Wilson being a…dad…" House struggled, knowing how much this must have hurt her, and almost completely unable to think of what to say, so he said stopped.

"He's so happy. You can see it in his eyes. He tries to tone it down around me, but…"

"Look, Lisa…" House said turning toward her, "I'm sure you are legitimately happy for him, but that has got to be..."

"Wait…what was that?" she asked, turning to face him.

"What was what?"

"Lisa?" she questioned.

"It's your name, I saw it on the door to your office whenever I barged in for years, it was wedged between the words 'Dr' and 'Cuddy'. If I think really hard, there might have even been a few people back in school that called you that…and maybe even your mom and sister."

"Not…you too," she said throwing her hands in the air in disgust.

"OK...I won't say it again. What the fuck Cuddy?"

"You have _never_ used my first name, and it's so fucking forced. You are doing what everyone does. You're starting to look at me with pity. It's that look that shows how damn weak and pathetic you think I am."

"This look that you currently see on my face is more like annoyance. I didn't say you were weak or pathetic…I didn't even imply it. You've been through something that most people, myself included, can't even comprehend…" his voice was increasingly agitated.

"Why am I here?" he asked sternly. "You've barely spoken to me since we got here. You barely spoke in the car. You said you didn't want to have to listen to the bullshit in your head, and yet you keep separating yourself from the person who you brought with you to distract you from it."

"I wanted you here because I thought you wouldn't feed me the same pity crap that everyone else does"

"Despite evidence to the contrary, I can actually care about how you are feeling! Although I'm beginning to wonder why. Trust me, I'd do anything right now to not give a shit about your feelings, because then I wouldn't be on this porch in the middle of the night having this insane conversation with you. I can't stand this…numb version of you anymore. I know you're in there, I can see tiny glimpses occasionally. You're stuck in this self-pitying…"

"Self-pity?" she asked, loudly and angrily. "_YOU_ are going to call _me_ self-pitying. You've built an entire lifestyle around self-pity. I'm so tired of everyone trying to not hurt my feelings to the point that they don't even act real anymore. I thought you were the one person that wouldn't treat me that way."

"That's not why I am here…" he accused.

"It isn't? Why don't you enlighten me then House"

"Part of you is hoping that I'm going to be the bastard you want me to be and that I'm going to try to intentionally hurt you…you don't want honesty…you want pain. The other part of you wants me here because you blame me for what happened to Rachel and you want the chance to air your list of grievances against me…"

"Why would I blame you for that?"

"Simple. I crash my car into your house, so you have to move. Rachel wouldn't have been by the roadside in Baltimore had it not been for me. You can trace the whole move back to me. To my insane actions. You know you've thought about it."

"Fine, you win. It's crossed my mind"

"What's really screwed up here is the person that's to blame for that sequence of events is YOU, not me!"

"How do you figure that?"

"You were the one that showed up at my apartment, telling me you loved me. You started a relationship with a man who repeatedly demonstrated to you just how screwed up he was…You knew what you were getting with me. Then you chose to continue it even after I warned you it would be bad. You could have easily left me to self-destruct with a clear conscience and had me all but out of your life forever. Instead, you decided to pull me closer."

"I showed up after you chased me. You made your intentions known and made me feel bad for not choosing you."

"That was your own guilt. And I didn't _chase_ you, I showed some interest, _after_ you tried throwing yourself at me…"

"After _you_ kissed _me_"

"Are we back there? Really?" he asked, his frustration really beginning to show.

"You wanted to play the blame game House, not me"

"You try to control every last little detail to the point that you feel responsible for everything that happens. Stop, trying to be so perfect, and just let yourself feel sad that she's gone. Try to appreciate what she meant to you while she was here, or soon you'll forget. Because if you keep this up your memories of her will the replaced with guilt, anger and misery."

Her hands balled into fists as she charged in to the living room from the patio with him following. "Don't run away Cuddy. I'm not the fucked up one right now. I'm not the one deflecting, or turning something that should be about Rachel into a verdict on you and your ability to make everything controlled and perfect."

She suddenly turned to face him, all of the anger within her building in her stomach as she lashed out, pushing him backwards with such force that he fell back onto the floor. "Fuck you House!" She stood over him, leaning down and punctuating each thought with her finger. She screamed, so loudly it burned his ears, "You _are_ the fucked up one. You ran your fucking car into my house, made me take my child to a new place. Made us leave our home, our friends...and don't you DARE ever tell me that I didn't appreciate having her."

House lifted himself from the ground using the closest chair. When he stood fully upright, he towered over her shoeless figure, but for once, standing over her like that, he didn't look at all intimidating. His voice was soft, the vitriol gone, "I honestly wish Rachel didn't die…I wish you weren't in so much pain. That's not a canned response, or a line from some grievance counselor's handbook. But you can't just blame me...because I am not responsible for her death."

"You are probably thrilled! Ever since you came into my life, you have repeatedly sabotaged EVERY chance I have ever had at happiness. You always did just enough at just the right times to make me think that maybe on some plane, at some time, you could _actually_ love me. You drove away men who might have actually cared about me, you constantly threatened my career…you tried to make me doubt my decision to adopt a baby in the first place. You _like_ it when I'm hurt and alone. And now…in all this, I've lost my daughter, I've lost my job, my home…and all I have left is you...the one person who revels in my unhappiness."

"I've done a lot of shitty things to you over the years. I fully acknowledge that. But don't try to tell me I never loved you in a lame attempt to turn this around and somehow make me responsible for the way you feel… to distract you from your guilt. You know I'm not really responsible and no matter how much you try, you're not going to make me your scapegoat."

She looked at him her expression blank, although he couldn't tell if it was emotionlessness or shock.

She stepped back and let herself puddle into the chair, trying to disconnect from the discussion.

The tenseness of the moment flooded over him until the frustration overwhelmed his attempts at being calm, "This is so stupid! You can analyze it a hundred different ways…we can chase the blame forever…you hired me, I had the infarction and showed up at the hospital, I ran off wordlessly at school…we can argue over who chased who back at school…we can blame our parents if you want, because I guess technically they started this whole thing…how far back are you going to take this?"

She didn't answer, she just stared ahead. At this point, he didn't even know if she heard him anymore. "You know what," he finally said, "Even why I try to do the right thing, I fuck it up…I'm done. I warned you this would be bad. This is me, telling you, I told you so. Fuck this Cuddy. I'm done trying."

He limped over to the counter, storming as fast as he could, grabbing her keys, and walking toward the door. In that moment he didn't care that she would be left there, alone at that place in her own sadness. His hand was on the door to the stairs when he heard her sob. It was an actual, real sob, filled with sadness, loss and pain. This was another moment, he realized, when he would have to make a decision that he would replay in his mind on hundreds of nights in the future. Moments like when he left Michigan, when he chose to take that one tab of Vicodin, or the pivotal moments before he did so many things that he knew would hurt her deeply. There was just _something_ in her sob, in the pain it conveyed, that allowed him to know she was actually _feeling_ something real.

He calmly closed the door, placed the keys on the counter and walked over to her chair. He stood over her, although she didn't seem to notice as she wept into her hands. She was pressed against the left side of the over-sized chair, barely taking up a third of the seat. He couldn't think of what to do at that moment. He wanted to do something that demonstrated his continued presence and legitimate concern, but didn't want her to believe he was doing something because he felt obligated to do it. He sat down in the chair next to her, slouching into the cushions, his hands folded loosely in his lap. His arm, side and left leg all flush against her. He made no move to embrace her or say something comforting. He just allowed the gravity of his presence to pull her into him. She looked up at him, eyes red and filled to the brim with tears that streamed down her face, and in his eyes she saw what she could only interpret as genuine caring. She leaned slightly toward him, letting her head come to rest against the cap of his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around herself and let her body just lean towards him, not taking too much, just accepting the contact. He looked over, still uncertain if he'd made the right decision, or if his presence would ultimately do her more harm than good, but at that moment, he was the one who was there. He was the only one she _wanted _there, even if for all of the wrong reasons.

He turned his face toward her, touching the top of her head with his cheek briefly before he said, without any forethought, "The kid mattered to me too. I know you were grateful to have her in your life. You really loved her, and what's more…she _knew_ how much you loved her."

"It just…hurts…so bad," she sniffled as she tried to get control over the waver in her voice. "When's it going to stop feeling like this?" she asked, her voice thick with loss.

"Dunno," he replied with quiet honesty.

Those were the last words either of them spoke that night. They sat there, her right side pressed to his left, the door to the patio still open as the cool night ocean air rushed in, the sounds of the waves and Cuddy's ragged tear torn breath wafting through the room like a gentle roar. House relaxed his head, letting it rest on the back of the chair and trying not to blink so the scant but present tears that dotted his lower eyelids wouldn't fall.

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><p><strong>AN**-review if you can...I'm curious!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**-so glad everyone's enjoying the story as it unfolds. These things definitely can't be rushed :) Thanks so very much for the reviews and tips!

**Disclaimer**- why oh why don't I own them?

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><p>He woke to the piercing brightness of the sun and the sound of gulls laughing by the sea. His thigh ached worse than it had in a long time. Although he lifted his feet up onto the coffee table shortly after Cuddy fell asleep, spending several hours sleeping in the chair did his leg no good whatsoever. She was sleeping, breathing softly, still leaning into him. She woke up soon after he did. "Oh my god your leg!" she said, standing and trying to pull him up, "I would have understood if you needed to go lay down. You could have woken me!"<p>

"It's fine," he said, as she grabbed his cane and handed it to him.

"We said no lying," she admonished, leading him to the stairs, "Come on!"

"Isn't a good time for a long walk on the beach," he snapped, his tone now acerbic as he tried to cover the pain in his voice.

"Come on!" she insisted. As they reached the downstairs patio, she flung the cover off of the hot tub and turned it on. He didn't need any coaxing, he removed his shirt and kicked off his sneakers as she gathered his things and moved them to a nearby chair. He unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall to the floor, electing to get into the hot tub in his underwear. She helped him get over the edge and heard the sigh as he settled in, enjoying the jets and heat.

"What are you taking now, ibuprofen…naproxen?"

"Either" he said, his head lulling back against the edge. "There's some ibuprofen in the front pocket of my overnight bag."

He worried about what her reaction would be after their discussion the night before. Would the fog remain lifted or would she return to the despondent and lost person she'd been since she'd found him a few nights earlier? Would she be angry about any of the things he said? She jogged into the house to get the medicine and a bottle of water and brought it back to him.

"Thank you," he mumbled.

"You're welcome," she responded with a faint but noticeable smile. She still looked sad, but her eyes seemed to have a small spark of life again, part of her spirit peeking out through the haze.

"You OK down here for a bit?" she asked.

He nodded. She grabbed his cell phone from his pants pocket and punched something in and set it on a table next to the hot tub. "My number," she said, nodding toward the phone, "call up if you need something," and with that she was gone.

There were still so many questions he wanted answers to, but at the moment he had to find some relief for his leg before he could worry about anything else. Cuddy returned a short while later with a towel, and helped pull him from the tub. "Be back," she said and returned with breakfast, which she placed on a bistro table a few feet from the hot tub.

He wrapped the towel she brought for him around his waist and pulled his tee shirt back on before moving to the table. He ate the eggs and toast quickly, forgetting to thank her for her efforts until he was nearly done. They didn't speak too much, but he was satisfied that much of the iciness was gone.

He finished, sitting back a bit and rubbing his sated stomach. "It's crazy about Wilson, huh?" Cuddy asked.

"Yea. I can't imagine him chasing around some high-powered executive."

"From the sounds of it, she chased him"

House laughed for a moment. "I didn't get an invite to the wedding...not that I'm surprised," he added absently.

"He was probably trying to protect me. I'm also relatively certain he didn't know where to reach you."

"You didn't tell him?"

She looked down, watching her fingers, "When he got married, I didn't know where you were, and I wasn't exactly looking for you. My decision to come see you was a bit spontaneous."

"How spontaneous?"

"I got the keys for here from Wilson and Ann late Friday afternoon. Dorman called me on my cell while I was at their place, he saw you a few weeks before and couldn't decide if he should tell me or not. I was planning on leaving Saturday morning from their place in Princeton and heading down here…After Dorman's call, I kept thinking about you…I convinced myself I wanted nothing to do with you…and then, against all of my better instincts, I found myself reprogramming the GPS. I decided to stop at the bar Saturday night and see you for myself."

"Did you tell Wilson about the call?"

"No. I actually wasn't sure what he would think about all of this, but I thought he'd be adamant about whatever the thought…and that he wouldn't let it rest. Plus I knew he'd spend the next few weeks worrying about it."

House smiled at the realization that his once close friend was still the same meddling worrier. "So you actually planned on coming here alone? "

She nodded.

House sat for a few minutes thinking before he continued, "When did you decide you wanted me to come here with you?"

"A few minutes before I asked"

"Seriously?"

"Yea. Weird huh…me, being that impulsive"

"A bit," he conceded.

"I don't know if we can ever really be friends House. But, I think we can come to a détente. Something to allow us some resolution from all of those years of being at each other's throats. We don't work together anymore, maybe we can be friends…or at least...not enemies?"

He breathed deeply and looked out over the sand in thought before turning to her with a sincere look, "If I don't have our little war going on I may be completely self-actualized and just drop dead on the spot, completely devoid of a reason to go on…" he said, smirking at her.

"Then I'll still be a little confrontational until we get back to Jersey and I drop you off at home, I don't want that lanky dead body on my hands," she said, returning a small smirk.

They each showered and dressed in their respective rooms, his leg now aching less, and he started to explore the rest of Wilson's vacation home. There was a third floor, which had a large game room with a pool table and poker table, and windows all around. On top of a small but well-stocked bar, there was a box of fine Cuban cigars. House looked at it, saying aloud to the empty room, "Ohhhh Wilson, you should know to lock up the good stuff."

He grabbed a cigar and matches and walked over toward the patio doors.

The view from this patio on the third floor was stunning and seemingly endless. He lit the cigar and walked back into the game room, quickly looking in the three guest bedrooms on that floor for anything else he may find interesting. Cuddy came up the steps, "House!" she whined, dragging out his name, "I knew I smelled smoke, what the hell? Outside!" she pointed.

He smirked defiantly at her, "as soon as Wilson finds out I was here, he'll know to expect this kind of thing. It's really his fault for not House-proofing, never can tell when I might show up."

He grabbed a fresh one and held it out to her. She shook her head vehemently, and waved her hand in front of her face to clear the smoke.

"Are you…OK? Or…as OK as you can be for now?" he asked softly.

"Dunno. Probably," she said as she started to walk away.

"Why do you feel guilty?" he asked, his voice probing but not cruel.

She looked down for a few moments and said, "Why didn't I drive her to school that day? Why didn't I at least stand out there with her that morning, maybe…I would have seen him coming…noticed something strange."

"You were supposed to drive her to school that day?"

"No…but I did some days"

"OK," he said somewhat incredulously. "Knowing you, I'm sure you left her outside, by herself, completely unsupervised..."

"Of course not"

"Who was with her?"

"Her friend was there waiting too, but I paid my neighbor to watch Rachel before and after school when I couldn't be there"

"And again…knowing you…I'm thinking the neighbor was completely unreliable…Someone horrible like an axe-murderer or drug dealer…"

"Retired teacher"

"Clearly there's the mistake, finding someone with a history of working with kids. Wow, you fucked up," he noted sarcastically.

"Do you have to be an ass right now?"

"Wait…just follow me. So do you blame this retired teacher that was with her waiting...since she failed to notice something strange?"

"Of course not"

"So…if someone else fails to protect the child in their charge, that's acceptable, but if you do it's a huge failure"

"I just…keep thinking of all of the things I could have done differently"

House scoffed loudly, "Oh please. We make thousands of choices every day, usually without ever considering them significant. You can't analyze every single decision of every day in case something may happen. What's fucked up is, you only blame yourself for these things…and occasionally me, but you don't blame the neighbor, or what's even more messed up, you don't blame the kid who was driving the car. That's what I don't get."

"He was just a kid"

"He was old enough to drive, made the decision to drink, and take the specific roads he chose to drive on to arrive exactly where he did. He is, in the most direct sense, the person who is responsible."

She looked away from him without response. House continued, "You always blame yourself for this stuff. Guilt…is…a horrible thing."

"How do you do it?"

"What?"

"You do so many things and you feel no guilt at all"

When he heard her question he became visibly uncomfortable. He stepped back from her a bit and leaned against the wall, fiddling with his cigar. "I have on occasion felt guilty. There are things in my life…that I wish I could change…but, I can't, so there's no point in thinking about it. I'll admit I don't feel guilty for pointing out stupid people's stupidity. I hurt people's feelings and it doesn't impact my day much…except to occasionally make me feel better, which …is really the opposite of feeling guilty. The things that I can manage to feel bad about...I feel very deeply and I'm not good at handling that. I do…actually feel awful for almost everything I did from the time you went into the hospital that morning until I went to jail. I made…gigantic strings of mistakes, but regardless, I can't change any of the things I did. Those are the things I feel guilty about. But as much as I wish Rachel wasn't dead, I didn't kill her… Which means _you_ definitely didn't kill her. You are never going to be happy, until you stop feeling guilty and stop trying to think of ways you could have protected her. You try so hard to see every possible outcome, to every situation, and you try to prevent the negatives, or at least you try to be prepared to deal with the problems when they happen. There's no preparation for what happened…and there's no contingency plan for dealing with it once it does."

She thought for several long moments about what he had said. She had no idea how to react to him in that moment. So she redirected, "It'll be hard to leave this place next week."

She looked somewhat uncomfortable again, and pushing her seemed like a bad idea now that she was opening back up, so he agreed to the change in subject. "Have you been here before?" he asked.

"No, it's my first time"

"You can actually see really far from up here," he said walking out onto the third floor patio with his cigar.

"What's that over there?" she asked, pointing in the distance.

He looked in the direction she was pointing, "What am I looking for here Cuddy?"

"Right over there…those roofs..."

He squinted and shrugged, "still don't see what you're looking at."

She grinned at him and in a voice she adopted trying to sound happier she said, "Shopping."

"NO! No way! A man has to have boundaries. I have shopped with you before, I know what it entails," he teased.

"There's a music store…and an antique book shop…I could drop you off there…"

He thought for a moment, "Fine. But you buy me lunch, or I'll get cranky…"

"Deal," she said with a grin. She started to walk back inside until he moved in front of her.

He spoke, his voice low and gravelly, "I don't expect you to feel all better…not yet. I'm not putting that on you, and neither should you. These things take time."

"I know," she nodded patting his elbow briefly before walking away. She stalled at the top of the stairs and said, without turning, "thanks House…for all of this." Before he could respond, she walked down the stairs, "be ready to go in ten minutes" she shouted up.

He finished his cigar and looked down as his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"Go away!" he said into the phone.

"Did you hang the 'if this bungalow's a-rockin' sign on the door yet?" Kate asked.

"And people say I'm the immature one. Remove the shit from your ears and listen: It isn't like that."

"I'm kidding! You may have heard me do that before"

"You and I are spending way too much time together"

"How is she?" Kate's voice sounded serious.

"She's…trying"

"You should try connecting with her differently…try being more human, less impersonal…try using her first name"

"You know, from time to time you have given fantastic advice, but that has got to be one of the WORST pieces you've ever given"

"Why? You don't have to be so institutional with her"

"Tried it…went over way less than poorly…"

"Aww…you tried it…that's so sweet"

"I'm not going to answer your calls if you are just going to piss me off"

"Hey remember that girl from the little weird indie band a few weeks ago?"

"Yea…let me guess, she's looking for me…I get that a lot," House replied.

"Oh hell no, she's looking for me, she was in last night for dinner. Came alone, sat at the bar and chatted with me"

"End the seriously screwed up 'thing' with possessive nut-job number one _before_ moving on to unknown type of nut-job number two," he said rolling his eyes.

"I am…that's over, it's been over"

"You think it is. She doesn't. You both have to know it's over for it to be over. So, grow a pair, or at least buy a pair, and tell her you are really, really done this time. Change the damn security code too"

"Yea, clearly you are the relationship expert," she teased.

"See, I know I'm _not _an expert, so I don't _pretend_ to be the expert. At least one of us has a foot in reality"

"House, come on let's go!" Cuddy shouted up the stairs.

"Oh man, is that her?" Kate asked, "She's so fucking sexy. Really, if you aren't into her, I would love to console her"

"You have to obey the guy code if you want to sleep with the people guys want to sleep with…" he stated, knowing she was just trying to provoke him into action or at least a confession.

"No, I have two codes, the guy code and the lesbian code…the lesbian code clearly states that women tossed aside by your friends aren't taboo…in fact exes of exes, or exes of friends, are more like your own personal dating service than forbidden fruit. I get to pick which code I follow, and when."

He walked to the top of the stairs, looking down at Cuddy who had one hand on the bannister and one on her hip, eyeing him expectantly. "You there House?" Kate asked.

"Yup."

"You should tell her how sexy she is"

"Cuddy, Kate didn't say hi, because she's ill-mannered and rude, but she said you are so damn sexy, any chance of you switching team busses for that?"

Cuddy looked up, "not today House, try again later," she said sarcastically.

"Sorry kiddo, she's not going for it. Besides, you just said a few minutes ago that you had a brand new nut-job on the line. Finish with _that_ nut-job before searching through my pool of friends."

"I told you that _you_ should tell her she's sexy, not tell her that _I_ think she's sexy!" Kate complained.

"Awww…sorry," he said, his voice dripping with insincere apology.

"Bye House," Kate laughed.

"Yea" he said as he ended the call and started down the stairs.

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><p>Cuddy dropped him off by the music store before she went shopping for clothes. She returned hours later, surprised to see that he didn't move on to the adjacent book shop, but that he was sitting in a corner silently playing a new electric guitar that wasn't plugged into an amp. "You even check out the bookstore?" she asked coming up behind him.<p>

He almost seemed startled as he turned in her direction, standing to hand the guitar back to the man behind the counter, "Gonna buy it buddy?" he asked House.

"Not today, thanks" House replied. "You back already?" he asked Cuddy.

"I've been gone for hours. You…never checked out the bookstore or anything?"

"Nope, liked it here," he answered, looking down at her bags.

"I hope those clinics pay you well with the size of your shopping habit"

She smiled as they walked out to her car together.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**-here's a nice long chapter. I think you guys will like the next few installments. I swear some of you are mind readers :) Read and review if you'd care to!

**Disclaimer**-i don't own them but I'm trying to save up enough to rent them for valentine's day. Do you think my S.O. will be pissed?

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><p>They dropped off her purchases at the car and went to a restaurant along the water. As they sat down her phone rang and she quickly dismissed the call. House wordlessly requested an answer.<p>

"It's Wilson, I'm not in the mood right now"

"He might be worried...he is the world champion of worrying"

"I'll call him after later"

"You're afraid I'll butt in and he'll know I'm here with you," he pointed at her accusingly.

"A bit," she agreed, "but mostly, I'm just not in the mood for him"

"Call him after lunch, I'll keep my trap shut"

They ordered their meals and discussed the local sites and other safe topics.

"So…we're friends now?" Cuddy asked.

"Umm…" he thought for a moment, "why are you asking?"

"Well you called me your friend, on the phone, today with Kate"

"Prefer 'former lover'...heart-breaker'...'ex-boss'? I know how names are very important to you now, after the 'first name fiasco' of last night, so you tell me what you want to be called," he said in jest but with an element of truth.

"Well, if someone were to ask me, I'd just tell them I was having lunch with a complete ass," she jabbed back, a bit of her former snarkiness showing through.

"Likely most people would figure out who you mean, so…I'm fine with that"

"I was just asking, because we said we were going to try to be non-enemies…and I dunno…I thought maybe, we'd try for friends...until we decide that doesn't work, and then we can down-grade to non-enemies. It gives us a cushion," she said smiling with a hint of playfulness.

"Sure," he said, uncertain as to why the definitions were so important.

"So why'd you take up the shift at the bar? I'd assume you are paid pretty well at Penn"

"I was bored, when I'm bored I get sullen, I start thinking, its…bad… One night, Kate asked me to come in with her, have some dinner because there was supposed to be a good band. I agreed, reluctantly, but since there was food and music…I figured I'd try it. Then I started going in every Saturday and it became a joke that I was her lazy employee…no jokes from you," he shot her a fake glare. "I started sneaking behind the bar and helping myself, because, I'm a gentleman like that," she rolled her eyes. He continued, "Eventually I just…sort of started helping. I wasn't getting paid, which really didn't seem to matter. When the regular girl quit, Kate kept me on, and we just started exchanging part of rent for services rendered."

Cuddy raised an eyebrow questioningly, "Services as a bartender Cuddy, get your filthy mind out of the gutter," he reprimanded. "That's that."

"I just can't see why you'd want to be there, with so many people. I mean, I think it's great. You are helping her out, staying out of trouble, but at one time you'd do anything to avoid people."

"No…I did anything to avoid patients…and my boss…for most of my career…" he smirked. "There are three types of bartenders: the ones that you can cry to, the ones who are good at getting your drinks but largely avoid unnecessary interaction, and the ones that are just mean. Now, the ones that you can cry to are really more of a myth than a reality, I mean, sure there are a few of them…but…I think its greatly exaggerated by people who want to consider drinking in excess a form of therapy."

"You _don't_ think it's a form of therapy?"

"Oh sure I do, but I admit it's because of the drinking, not because of the talking," he clarified. "Now, that brings us to type 2: the ones that get your drinks promptly but avoid unnecessary discussion…this is most of them, and I wanted to be that one, but they are also the ones that sort of smile when they hand you your drinks and _act_ like they aren't ignoring you for better tips. I had trouble mastering the friendly afterglow. I decided to go for option 3: be a complete asshole…which surprisingly is more accepted from a bartender than from a doctor. So, I started doing what I do...mocking people, being rude, but still handing out the beverages, and strangely…there…people liked that. It's the perfect part-time job for me!"

Cuddy sat back with a delicate smile, "that actually makes sense. You seem to be doing OK"

"I'm not bad," he conceded. "I think that trying to be all-better is a mistake"

She looked slightly offended until he clarified, "No, I mean, for me…I wasn't referring to you. _ I _will never be all-better…I have to sort of…deal with who I am…and work within what I can reach from there. So shifts…modest shifts, seem to make me a bit more functional. Avoiding narcotics may help…but that might just be the conspirators talking," he joked.

"So living with Kate, it's good for you?"

"Umm, yea. She's stable. I mean, we're all fucked up in our own ways, some are just more obvious than others. She makes fun of my addiction to ass-holiness, I make fun of her complete inability to deal with women in a mature way. As much as I hate to admit it, I shouldn't be alone all of the time. Since she's a lesbian it creates certain barriers automatically, but I still get to leer at hot chicks. Win-win situation! She invites just enough drama, tempered with a good work ethic and enough grown-up behavior to help me act like a grown-up too…occasionally."

"That's good," she responded.

"So you live alone now?" he winced, realizing the implication that Rachel was no longer there.

"Yea, I do. Matthew and I went out about a year. We sort of kept our own places…and then when I freaked at the first mention of marriage…"

Their plates arrived and the waitress interrupted their discussion briefly.

"Funny, you running from marriage," House observed, quickly diving into his food. "Sorta figured you always wanted that on some level," he said, his mouth full of food.

"I don't know. I think I did," she said introspectively. "Not sure if it was the proposer, or the institution that spooked me the most."

They entered comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the food and local brew. Cuddy dabbed her lips with her napkin and said, in a poor attempt to sound nonchalant, "Did you ever have sex with Kate?"

He had a look of clear surprise as she definitely succeeded in taking him off guard. "Let me explain the word 'lesbian' to you."

"A deflection"

"Did I ever have sex _with_ Kate?" he repeated thoughtfully, "Umm, the answer is no"

"See you restated the question with specific emphasis, which means there's more to the story. Just tell me you don't want to answer."

"Fine, I don't want to answer"

"Oh come on," she answered, curious about their dynamic still. "Why won't you tell me? We're friends, you would have told Wilson."

"You are not Wilson!"

"We said we were going to try to be friends"

"I knew the whole role assignment there was going to come back to bite me. I can't talk about that with you because you're a woman that I used to have sex with, and you are going to add more things to that tally sheet, and then later you are going to circle around and use it against me."

"I wouldn't!" she answered defensively. "But since you won't answer, I'm going to assume the answer is yes. Do you guys do that sort of thing regularly?"

"See, I told you, you'd assume an answer…and you're going in the wrong direction. Maybe I just don't want to admit that she won't sleep with me, did you consider that?"

"Just tell me," she said, now quite irritated.

He smiled broadly, "I can still get to you…no one can irritate you like I can. Alright, there was one time a little while after we met that we sort of…" he stopped abruptly, looking at her and pointing accusingly, "I still think you are going to use this against me later."

"I won't. Besides, who knows when we'll see each other after this trip."

He squinted, "Fine, but I hope you remember this later when I ask you something you don't want to answer. I had been living at her place a couple of months, she had a few friends over, they were playing cards, drinking, that sort of thing. The one stayed and she propositioned the two of us. I didn't actually have sex _with_ Kate, it was more of a tag team effort… It was the perfect setup, good sex, cost free, no strings…and sadly the whole thing was just …too weird. We agreed to avoid such things in the future."

"It was weird? I can't imagine you thinking that sort of experience was weird."

"Yes"

She looked at him and gestured for him to continue. He sighed, looking skyward and just continued, "_It_ wasn't weird, but it was afterwards. The girl had the luxury of falling asleep and then leaving in the morning and we were there in the apartment, staring uncomfortably. I decided to never mention it again. Kate, in true Cuddy-Wilson form decided we needed to talk about it. We just agreed it was a mistake."

Cuddy nodded, continuing to eat. "What no moral judgments or criticism or…" he asked skeptically.

"Nope," she answered. "I have no right to judge you"

They returned to eating in silence for a while until Cuddy said, "I expected to get some bravado-filled proclamation of your manliness…and I got something else…sometimes you surprise me."

"I think I have an established history of manliness with you …what's there to prove?" he smiled at the reference to their time together and then felt uncomfortable bringing up the topic at all, so he shifted. "So manipulative Cuddy!" he smiled at her with some admiration.

They got in the car, chatting easily. He reached under the seat to adjust it back for his significantly longer legs and found something unexpected. He removed it and found himself gazing across a small stuffed dog at Cuddy, who was sitting in the passenger seat.

Her face twisted in obvious pain as she extended her hand for the dog, took it and held it for a moment before reaching under his seat to shove it back under. He looked at her trying to interpret the behavior. "Rachel's first day of Kindergarten, I drove her to school. She wanted to take her stuffed dog. We got there…and she looked at all of the kids going in, and…you could just see her…mustering all of her courage. She leaned over, gave me a hug good-bye and shoved the stuffed dog under my seat, with this look of pride…like she thought she was finally all grown up." Cuddy smiled a sad loving smile and continued, "She asked me to keep it in the car in case one day she needed to take it in with her, and after a while...I guess she forgot it was under there. I knew it was there, I just…didn't want to take it out yet."

He nodded. She looked out the window and said, "I know it's stupid…it's just a toy."

He started the car and drove them home.

When they were back she decided she needed a nap, so House returned to the third floor to check out Wilson's bar and game room. He shot a few games of pool, stretched out in on the over-sized couch in front of a ridiculous theater system and pondered the events of the day. He knew Cuddy was having a good time during most of the day until his unfortunate discovery, but he also knew there was no way to completely overcome such a loss quickly, and he certainly didn't want to verbally assault her each time she seemed unhappy. He decided he'd try to plan a fun evening, without it looking like he was trying to distract her. He went down to the main floor and peeked into her room. He liked that she had enough trust in him to leave the door open. She was curled up on the bed, on top of the covers, sleeping peacefully. He pulled the door shut quietly so he wouldn't disturb her and decided to make them something for dinner. He rummaged through the cabinets and refrigerator to see what she bought the day before.

Later she woke and he heard her talking to someone on the phone. She walked out into the kitchen, limbs loose from sleep. "How did you stay close to him for so many years…he's such a…" her eyes widened with surprise at the food in front of her, "oh my god! You got creative…it smells…amazing…"

"Made extra. We'll have leftovers to snack on. I'm guessing you were on the phone with Wilson. We have to make a pact, that so long as one of us lives, Wilson and Kate are never able to meet. They'd join forces and try to smother the world in care and understanding. The results would be disastrous!"

She chuckled, seemingly refreshed by her nap. She wandered over to the counter, picking up a small appetizer and popping it in her mouth. "You should cook…all of the time…" she complimented.

They sat, drinking a bottle of wine they took from the collection, which House promised they'd replace, although she doubted he'd follow through. They started to play a video game. They were both pleasantly buzzed, House's once astronomically high tolerance significantly lessened after a few years of drinking a lot less. He laughed hysterically when a zombie jumped onto the screen and scared Cuddy so badly she vaulted behind the sofa. She looked at his face, which was transformed by a wide smile, a sight that, despite their time together, she had seen only a few times. When they finished the level Cuddy padded off to the wine room to get another bottle, "Slow down there," he said, "I'm not really in the mood for you puking on me tonight."

"I am pacing myself nicely," she bragged.

"Right…just be careful." He watched her as she moved gracefully through the room with the new bottle and was momentarily overwhelmed. Something he had for so long been privileged enough to see on an almost daily basis, and too often took for granted, was here before him yet another time. The thought of losing that again…

"You want me to teach you to shoot pool?" he asked, trying to move beyond the thoughts in his head.

"You trying the old 'teach the woman to shoot pool so you can get a good feel on her ass' kinda thing House…that seems below you," she teased.

"I can teach you to shoot pool without touching your ass…it won't be as much fun…but I can," he joked.

"This is nice," she said thoughtfully, "It's nice being friendly and not…constantly trying to one-up each other"

"It's just the alcohol Cuddy, we'll be back to one-upping tomorrow," he replied remembering their earlier discussion and his insistence that she be honest with him about any subject of his choosing since he was so honest with her. "So…since we're such good friends," he started, "I'm ready to ask you some embarrassing questions…you owe me after my own soul-baring honesty."

"Go ahead," she said calmly as she headed toward the stairs.

"Really?"

"Sure. Whatever you want."

"You don't know what I'm going to ask, so you shouldn't be so relaxed about the whole thing"

"House…I don't care. Ask me something…whatever. What are you going to do, drive to Baltimore and scream something from the center stand at a clinic where there's never more than 100 people at a time, and ninety percent of those people don't even know my name. You helped me get used to public humiliation. Plus…I just…don't think you feel like hurting me right now. Maybe later…but…I don't think you do right now."

He nodded as he finally reached the top of the stairs and he stared off to the wall beyond her. "I lied."

"About what?" she sighed, agitated that her relaxation was about to come to an abrupt halt. "Is this about Rachel? Let me guess, you didn't mean it that she mattered to you, or you don't care that she's dead…are you trying to sabotage this because we're actually having fun, or maybe you're tired of seeing me smile? Just get it out there, and then I can decide if I want to keep playing and enjoying the evening or if I'm going to go to bed and send you the hell home tomorrow."

"Our agreement was no lies," he answered calmly, "I lied about Kate."

"What about her…are you guys…a …thing or something?"

"Or something…I didn't have a threesome with her. I just told you that to see your reaction. I was…testing you. And…I wanted to tell you something big that I thought would give me leverage if you hesitated answering my questions later on."

"Yea I figured. Is that it?" she answered calmly.

"What do you mean you figured?" he said with disbelief.

"You think you are so much more perceptive than I am…and you're probably right," she downed her glass of wine and set it on the high table near the pool table and walked over to him, standing directly in front of him, barely inches apart, hands on her hips. "But don't forget House…you may know my weaknesses…but I know yours, and I know you. If you decided to be really honest with yourself and with me, you'd acknowledge that even during the most terrible of times between us…_you_ have always been more afraid of me than I am of you…not in a boss-administrator kinda way, because I know you barely respected me like that…but you know, I'm the one person that really knows you…the one person with any real power over you…and it absolutely terrifies you."

His mouth was opened slightly, brow furrowed, as he listened to her words, her assertiveness, and he wasn't sure if it was the drink or the surprise, or the fact that she was so close to him, but he couldn't form a single word. She cocked her head in response and turned sauntering away, "Can you set the little balls up on the table?"

"What?" he asked, now both confused and irritated, assuming she was making a comment about him.

"We gonna shoot pool or not? I need you to set up the balls since I don't know how"

"Yea, sure," he said, walking over to rack the billiards. He began absently explaining the proper placement. "Umm, now one of us has to start, it's called breaking, but you probably know that…"

"I'll try that," she said, walking to the head of the table.

"I can do it Cuddy. It's hard to get a good break when you're first learning."

She didn't move from her spot, her face defiant. "Fine, you can try it," he said, demonstrating how to hold the cue on his own hand without ever touching her.

"Thanks for showing me," she said looking right at him before she expertly held the cue and broke, sending two balls in immediately, "wow you are a good teacher," she teased. "Ooops, I guess I lied too... I've got high ball loser!" she smirked as she walked around him to set up her next shot.

House watched, completely lost in thought about what she had said and didn't realize she was still talking to him. He was suddenly brought out of his reflection, "HOUSE!" Cuddy shouted, "You OK?"

He turned to her, barely nodding his head. "I missed, it's your turn," she said, her voice raspy and sing songy as she walked over to her glass. "You aren't seriously mad at me are you? It's just a game," she said.

"Not mad," he answered and walked over and made his first shot, but missed his second right after.

"You feeling alright, I've seen you play tons of times, you used to be better."

"Need air," he said, walking to the bar to grab another cigar and stepping out onto the patio.

She finished the game on her own, patiently waiting for him. When he didn't return she walked to the edge of the patio and peered out at him as he leaned on the railing. "Hey," she said softly, now very uncertain and concerned that something had shifted and the much darker aspects of him were about to resurface.

"Hey," he replied. After a few moments he turned and said to her, "All of those times we went somewhere, and I shot pool, and you watched…"

"Yea…"

"Why not say something…why not play? I would have rather played with you than most of those idiots. You aren't the type to be intimidated by a little competition."

She leaned against the door frame with her arms folded. "When you were in Princeton, I liked watching you when you were deepest in thought. Sitting in your office, toying with this or that, completely consumed. You always looked…human…and brilliant…and…kinda sexy. It was like you were totally disarmed…When you shoot pool you get that same look. That intense, strategizing look and I can tell you are completely captured by the task at hand. I used to like watching you like that, somewhere outside of the hospital. When we were dating, do you remember the first time we went out and you shot a few games?"

He turned to look at her eyes, and saw a subtle grin and gave her a half smirk in return, still a bit disoriented by the conversation. "That…was a fun night," she smiled, gently biting her lower lip.

She heard him breathe out a chuckle. "Yea" he said, returning his gaze to moon.

"Goodnight House," she whispered lifting herself away from the wall and walking down to her room.

After a few hours of thinking he made a phone call.

"Hey!" Kate answered, obviously woken from sleep, "What's wrong?"

"She says I'm scared of her"

"You are"

"No I'm not"

"OK...but you are. What do you want? You've griped every time I've called you, and yet you are calling me before sunup. You aren't sleeping, which usually means you're thinking. So tell me what happened."

"Nothing. We…had fun"

"Oh fuck that's awful," she answered sarcastically.

"No like…too much fun"

"OK, you will bite my head off if I ask if you got laid, so…how about you explain to me what 'too much fun' means"

"We didn't fight, and we had fun. All day. Played video games, ate, drank wine, shopped…well she shopped."

"If you are calling me about this…you aren't scared of her, you are terrified…"

"Fuck," he sighed.

"Take her on a date"

"That's a stupid idea, I don't do that"

"You should try doing that"

"We will always be doomed to fail. Nothing's changed"

"OK. You know you make these final judgments about things…and sometimes you are wrong. Sometimes those judgments hold you back."

"Even if I am wrong, which is unlikely, she's distraught, hardly the time to move in for the kill"

"_You_ are actually worried about appropriate timing?"

"Hey…since I just called you, don't call me in 3 hours…I already checked in," he said, abruptly ending the call and going to bed to try to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**-_Thanks Anonymous reviewer for correction_

* * *

><p>When he woke hours later she wasn't in her room. He peered through her door, saw the tissue box and trash can next to her bed, and knew she had been crying again. Although it wasn't ideal that she was still sad, it was better than her previous, nearly-catatonic behavior. Seeing her sneakers lined against the wall, he realized she didn't go jogging, so he walked out onto the patio. He saw her jumping through the waves in the ocean. She emerged moments later, the sun that day surprisingly hot, and she relaxed down onto a towel. House grabbed the binoculars from a shelf on the wall, musing that Wilson probably used them for something completely lame, like bird watching. He definitely knew he was too old for this but he balanced himself onto the side of the hammock and allowed his binocular aided eyes to pour over Cuddy's prone form. He was amazed that she was still as perfect as he remembered, at least from what he could tell. She filled the bikini in the most delectable of ways and he shuddered at the memories of the times he was allowed to be so much closer to her, the times when he wasn't apprehensive about the slightest of touches. He stopped, hanging his head in his hand, wondering what was wrong with him that he was watching a woman through binoculars like an inexperienced teenager.<p>

He was arguing silently with himself, feeling pathetic for watching her like that. When he looked out again toward the place where she had been resting, he noticed that both she and her towel were gone. He heard her coming up the stairs and couldn't seem to remove himself from the hammock since there wasn't a firm surface to push off of, and he couldn't get rid of the binoculars in time, so he flopped back down in the hammock and shoved the binoculars against his side, hidden under his shirt. She walked out to the patio. "Morning," she smiled at him, still in the bikini with a towel wrapped around her waist. He was rocking in the hammock, hands folded at his stomach, eyes closed.

He looked over at her through one eye, "Did you gather the palm fronds yet, wench?" he asked.

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him, "Palm fronds?"

"I'm laying here in a hammock, you're in a bikini, I figured you should get some palm fronds and fan me like a good little slave girl," he teased.

"Demonstrating the depths of your delusion again?" she teased walking out onto the patio near him. "You feeling OK today?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine, just relaxing"

"You were quiet last night…" she continued.

"Thinking. You may have known me to do that from time to time, you wouldn't understand," he jested.

She started smirking at him with a smug grin.

"What?" he asked irritably.

"What's that? Did you have an experimental surgery to move your cock to your side, maybe make it easier to play with when your arms are crossed?" she laughed.

He looked down at his side to see one of the cylinders of the binoculars creating a visible ridge under his shirt.

"It's nothing," he responded coolly.

Once he saw her turn to leave, he fully reclined again and closed his eyes.

"If you're being evasive, it _mus_t be good" she said.

He noticed something blocking the sun and looked up to see that she didn't leave. Instead, she was standing over him, but by the time it registered it was too late. She was grabbing the binoculars from under his shirt. "Watching wildlife?" she asked wryly.

"I like…birds…" he squinted threateningly.

"Were you watching me?" she giggled, her face clearly amused.

"Aren't you sure of yourself"

"Deflecting. No lies, answer the question"

He closed his eyes and returned his hands to their folded position on his stomach. "If you need me to answer that question, then your claims of perceptivity are highly inflated, and…you must not know me at all."

She smirked and left to get dressed for the day.

* * *

><p>They sat eating some of the leftovers and trying to decide what to do with their day, each surprised by how well they had been getting along. "So, did you and the new guy ever consider having more kids?"<p>

"More kids?" she asked, taken aback and somewhat irritated by the insensitivity of the question.

"Yea, did you ever consider siblings for Rachel, whatever. It's just one of those things I've always wondered. You and I weren't a thing long enough to ever bring that up."

"Had _nothing_ to do with the length of time we were together," she answered shortly.

"What does that mean?"

"I never would have brought that up with you"

"Not even as a hypothetical?"

"No…definitely not. You made it clear that you didn't like Rachel from the start…you didn't want kids…any discussion would have been an invitation for argument, what's the point?"

"It took me time…Rachel and I…we got along in our own way."

"Oh please, do you even have one thought or memory of her that's…even half decent?"

He put his wallet from his jeans and placed it on the counter in response.

"What...you…wanna pay me to avoid this discussion…"

"Open it, check out the hidden fold in the back."

She opened the wallet and pulled out a folded blue poker card. "A playing card?"

"Unfold it"

After unfolding it she saw brightly colored stick figures and squiggles all over the face of the two of diamonds.

"She did that, I think the really long squiggle is me," he said calmly, looking off in the distance. "She took my deck of cards while I was playing the piano one day."

Cuddy looked at the rudimentary images and imagined how angry he must have initially been that she ruined his deck of cards, and marveled at the fact that he kept it.

"You know, I also have a note she left for me. It's stuck in the checked box on a shelf in my room. When we get back you can go look if you don't believe me."

She returned the card to his wallet and handed it back to him, surprised when he kept her hand, "Do you honestly think that you are the only one that has ever experienced a loss they thought they'd never survive?"

"It's different," she answered, "physical loss and emotional loss…two very different things."

"Physical loss," he repeated thoughtfully, nodding, "so you think this is about my leg. You've managed to somehow reduce me to a monster with a limp. That's really nice Cuddy. I'm not saying I'm the world's greatest guy, but…I've been slightly less horrible to you these last few days. I'm not talking about physical loss. You can combine all of the pain my leg has ever caused me and it still doesn't come close to what you did to me when you walked away without a second thought."

Her mouth moved as she tried to find words, "I didn't want to hurt you…I never wanted that."

"Wants and actions are different aren't they?"

"What was I supposed to do in that situation?"

"See you looked at it and saw the excuse you were waiting for. It never occurred to you that the very thought of losing…" he trailed off gathering his thoughts. "There wasn't a thing in this world that was more painful to me than the thought of your death. You lived...and then I lost you anyway. You wouldn't even talk to me about it…no discussion or do-overs, no attempt to try rehab or therapy...nothing. You are one of the most stubborn people I have ever met, and yet, I meant _so_ little to you, that you let go without any fight at all. That made it all hurt even worse…that you meant everything to me, and I was…just another guy."

"You were never just another guy. How could you think that?" her voice was comforting and soft. "Come on, like you would have gone to therapy? Really?"

"When you showed up at my apartment to dump me, I would have done almost anything you asked. That's not hyperbole."

His eyes were downcast, his look wounded. She spoke, her voice wavering slightly, "God, House, I know I gave up…I think about that all of the time. I was able to forget after the whole car incident for a little while, justify my surrender…but…"

"I always thought you saw me as more. I don't care if other people see me like that…but you…"

"I do see you as…"

"I don't want to talk about this," he said softly, pressing her hands back toward her own stomach and stepping away. "I will be back...later." His voice wasn't angry, or harsh, it was dejected. She found that even harder to handle.

The thing that surprised her the most was that, before leaving, he actually told her he'd be back, which was in stark contrast to most of his wordless wounded exits. While everything was going on with her, she didn't really consider the pain he could still feel after their cataclysmic end. He had actually been nice, giving her what he could to help her through her pain. Although he could at times be absolutely infuriating, he was unapologetically himself, and he did help her to start to see through her depression. "Who's the selfish ass now?" she said to the air.

She was determined to at least attempt to show her appreciation.

House walked outside for a few moments until deciding to return to soak in the hot tub to ease his aching thigh. He never intended on going far, he just needed to regain some control over his thoughts before he exposed things about himself that he wasn't ready to share. When he returned, Cuddy and her car were gone. He couldn't hope that she'd forget the things that he'd done. That was too much to ask of anyone and despite his best attempts, he knew he was still deeply flawed.

He heard her car pull in and she went upstairs. He pulled himself from the hot tub and began to towel off when he saw her leave again and head off running down the beach. His few moments of silence allowed him to regroup. He hated that he still had feelings for her, and even more than that, he hated that he cared so much about her feelings, but he was doing things a little differently than before. He couldn't ignore how amazing it was to be near her, or the fact that he felt good being the one to help her for a change. When he went upstairs there was a large box on his bed with a piece of paper attached to it. It read:

_H-_

_To the only man who's ever been more than just a guy, with heart-felt gratitude,_

_C_

He looked into the box and saw a guitar case, and inside, the guitar he had played for hours the previous day. His head whirled slightly at the thoughtfulness of the gesture and he took the guitar immediately to the living room with him. Cuddy had been gone a very long time on her run and he began to worry, particularly when he heard thunder in the distance. Just as his concern intensified, he heard the door downstairs, and retreated to his room to rest on his bed, guitar next to him, door open. He stayed there, drifting into relaxation to the sounds of Cuddy's shower.

When she finished and dressed she walked out into the living area, slightly disappointed that House had chosen to go to bed. She wondered what he had thought about the gift and realized she'd have to wait until morning to find out. His door was still open, so she went inside. His hands were folded behind his head, his guitar and case still on the bed next to him, lights on throughout the room. She went in quietly, moved the case from the bed and placed the guitar inside. She turned out the light at the far side of the room and walked around to where he was sleeping. She sat gingerly on the edge of the bed next to him, uncertain whether or not she hoped he'd wake. She reached over, turned out the light on the bedside table and studied his face. The only light that filtered into the room was from the lights in the main living area. He looked so free of anger or sadness sleeping there and she marveled over the strangely distant familiarity of seeing him like this. She found herself drawn to him and slowly leaned over, trying not to wake him. She gently surrounded his lower lip with her own soft delicate lips, the feeling of this secret kiss flooding her body with sensation. She lingered there, slightly too long to be considered completely innocent. She began pulling away and noticed that his lips were still pressed to hers. She opened her eyes to see his eyes open and alert before her, and realized that he lifted his head from his pillow to maintain the connection. She moved away, standing up next to the bed and avoiding his gaze. "I thought you were asleep I didn't mean to wake you…"

"Don't do that…"

"I'm so sorry," she interrupted, embarrassed beyond belief.

"Don't you ever let me finish a thought?" he asked, adding with a look of complete amusement, "I was saying…don't do that again if you aren't going to wake me up."

She stared at him, completely stunned, both by her actions and his response.

"Or, maybe you're into that sort of thing…I shoulda known where those lipstick marks on coma guy were coming from," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips ready for his next comment, but his next move was the last one she expected: he pulled the covers from the other side of the bed and folded them over himself and said after he turned away, "Night Cuddy, love the guitar," and he settled in to go to sleep.

"S…sure," she managed as she left the room.

She barely slept that night, reliving the past, wondering about the future, and questioning her intentions in the present.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** Don't own em

Cuddy woke in the morning to the sound of rain pouring outside. When she went to the living room, House was sitting on the sofa holding his guitar. "Don't you knock!" he chided, "we were having a private moment…you shouldn't interrupt love." He looked up at her briefly before turning his gaze to the strings. "Really, thank you."

"It's no problem…I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you dealing with me these last few days. I…I know I'm just as difficult to deal with as you are…maybe worse" she chuckled softly. "You aren't a monster…"

He put the guitar on the coffee table and walked over to her. "Shitty weather today, madam administrator…what shall we do?" he said trying to change the subject as quickly as he could. He looked at her questioningly. Her only response was to shrug while thinking, so he continued, "How about breakfast, and now that the element of surprise is no longer in your favor, I kick your ass at pool. There's plenty to do in here, Wilson's got more toys than a daycare."

They ate, made a quick run for provisions, and returned. House stopped for an unbelievably expensive bottle of scotch that he assured Cuddy would sway her to the beverage for the rest of her life. "I'd like to go out to one of the nicer places, have something ridiculously overpriced…get to wear some of my new clothes."

"Tomorrow," he responded, "I'll wear my best stuff, I have a clean pair of jeans and one of my tee shirts is barely wrinkled at all." He glanced at her over the task at hand, which included several bowls and implements being used to produce an amazing chocolate dessert.

By mid-afternoon the running was done, food was prepared and the bottle of scotch was open. He poured some and held the glass out for her to try. "It's 2:30," she answered.

"This is so exciting! I haven't played a game of state the obvious in years…my turn…it's raining."

"You are a gigantic ass," she responded.

"That's a tough one to beat," he answered tapping his mouth in an exaggerated thinking gesture. "You _have_ a gigantic ass…" he responded.

At that she took the glass of scotch, "Fine, gimme," she said, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a sip. "Still burns just a little too much for me"

"I thought you might say that…" he answered, producing a bottle of wine that he knew she enjoyed.

"Nice…thank you," she said, grabbing the bottle and a glass and walking upstairs to begin their game of pool.

"What would your devoted minions say if they knew their fearless leader was already drinking at this hour?" he asked as she stood by the bar opening the bottle.

She smiled at him. "It's a glass of wine, not a barrel. Let's play, I am so going to destroy you."

She started racking while talking animatedly, discussing her new clinic. He didn't hear anything she was saying, although he watched her intently: her small bare feet that virtually danced across the floor, her beautifully defined calves and the curve of her hips, covered by a pair of form fitting shorts. She wore a tank top that was almost silky, accentuating her tiny waist and perfect breasts. His eyes wandered across her face and he saw it…that glorious smile…he hadn't seen _that_ smile in years. She was bent, facing him across the table lining up a shot, her cleavage on full display, but he didn't pay attention to that fact. His eyes were otherwise occupied, moving from her perfect lips to her intense grey eyes. Her gaze lifted from the shot at the table and captured his, her mouth turning up into a faint smile.

She noticed he was watching her, his head slightly tilted and looking at her intently. His gaze wasn't lewd or leering, but merely observational. "House?" she asked, smirking at him curiously. "HOUSE!" she stopped smiling and stood upright, her face taking on a look of concern.

He blinked away his haze, "Huh?"

"You sure that's just scotch?"

"Yea, I was thinking! God woman, quit harassing me!" he said with a half smirk.

"You're thinking again? The second time I'm kicking your ass and again you're distracted by thinking…seems a strange coincidence doesn't it?" she teased.

"You won't be winning for long!" he retorted, going to select a cue.

"We can do something else, you don't seem into this. What do you want to do?"

"This is fine," he answered, looking the cues over before selecting one.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly, feeling some concern.

"Nothing," he replied turning toward the table. He made his shot and turned back, her face now showing worry.

"Cuddy, nothing is wrong. Stop worrying."

She forced a smile.

"What would you do here?" he asked, pointing at the table.

She walked over and began studying the table, "You want help?"

"Just curious"

"Three in the corner's your best"

"You want me to miss, so why should I trust you?"

"You _asked_ for my opinion, I'll keep it to myself if you'd prefer," she teased. "Look, your only problem is the ten, just graze the three right there, you'll go right past it. It's a good shot."

He watched her examining the table and explaining her suggestion, and understood then why she enjoyed watching him play. She pushed his shoulders down to the plane of the table for a different view. He felt his face flush as hers was inches away, the heat of her skin just barely noticeable on his. She turned to face him, still talking, when he jerked unexpectedly, standing upright and reaching into his pocket to answer his phone, "What?" he shouted into it, sounding much louder and more irritated than he had hoped.

Cuddy listened on, expecting the call was from Kate.

"Yes."

"…"

"Check with Robertson, he was in charge of that one"

"…"

"OK, I'll be out the rest of the day, no phone service, so …is there anything else? Good!" he said cheerily without waiting for an answer. "Any other questions talk to Lawoti, that's why I hired her," he powered off his phone muttering, "Idiots," as he put it up on the table.

"Trouble at work?" she asked.

"Yes, the trouble is the overpaid morons that I…forget it," he said, returning to his game and making two perfect shots before missing the next.

She approached the table, eyeing a shot until he stopped her, "You really want to try that one?"

"Yea…why?"

He walked up behind her, "Well, I don't think you have a good shot."

Her skin tingled as he moved closer, so close that she could sense his every movement from the warm feeling of him alone. She felt herself almost completely overwhelmed as he leaned down over her, his chin nearly in contact with her shoulder. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing up and the whooshing of her blood in her ears. She felt his hip brush against her side, completely distracted until a loud slap and immediate sting made her yelp as his hand smacked her ass and he hopped back.

"Oops, sorry, your suggestion the other night to try to get an ass grab was too tempting to pass up"

"You are such as jerk!" she slapped his arm laughing, "I can't believe you just did that!"

He laughed, his hand across his abdomen as he leaned back, half sitting on the pool table. She watched him, feeling amused by his sudden revelry. When she tried to recall the last time she'd seen him with that look, she realized this was the first time. All of the time they had known each other, she had never seen him _that_ legitimately happy…it was more than she thought he was ever capable of feeling. Caught in the moment, she delicately touched the tips of her fingers to the side of his face, turning him toward her, seeing his wide grin slowly fade, his face still flushed from laughter and she moved in, capturing his lower lip between hers. He reacted instantly, his face tilting slightly to capture her upper lip between his as each got lost in the pleasant warmth. Both of their hearts thudded so loudly in their chests they were certain the other could hear. A small moan escaped her lips, more like a soft whimper, at just the moment when he ran his tongue along her lip. This sound that he had heard so many times during their time together, signaled not only her permission, but the depths of her desire for him. His Pavlovian response was an instantaneous ache throughout his body for her, his hand moving forward to rest on her hip, his fingers moving subtly, sliding along the cool smooth fabric of her shirt. Her hands moved to his chest, the fingers of the one hand tugging at his tee shirt, the other hand pressed flat against the area over his heart, increasing her desire as she confirmed his heart was indeed thudding as hard and as fast as hers. Their bodies were still separated as they acted tentatively. When her hand ran down to his abdomen and around to his side to pull him closer he snapped out of the moment, although largely unwillingly, "Cuddy," he muttered against her lips, his voice low and ragged, "I can't...sorry."

She stopped, her eyes focusing in on him. "Oh…" she said, sounding almost apologetic, "its OK…its fine…" she leaned, in her lips grazing his ear as he spoke, "I'll bet if you give me some time we'll be fine, if not we'll get a scrip tomorrow."

She finished the statement, her lips moved to his neck and her hand skimmed along his lower stomach. "Wait, wait, wait," he said standing and sounding defensive, "I _can_ I mean…I really can it's not an issue of functionality…Please…really?"

He grabbed her hands and pulled them from his body. "Then…what's the problem?" she asked.

"I won't do this…"

"You are turning me down…you're kidding?"

"I'm not. Trust me I can't believe it either," he said staring at the ground.

"This could be fun…"

"It can't"

"Great!" she grumbled, turning away, "if I can't get your attention I must really be letting myself go."

She paced across the room, now adding embarrassment to her frustration. "Fine, tell me what you are looking for because I need this right now and I know you aren't picky. It's free sex, what else do you want, you want the lights out, you want me not to kiss you…tomorrow you want to pretend it never happened…"

"I'm not picky…nice. I mean, if you look at my actual _relationship_ history I think you'll find that I'm remarkably picky."

"I know how you love embarrassing me but please, quit playing with me and tell me what you want. I know what you like…I know you can make me feel good, we both win."

"Relax a second, I'll explain," he said, sounding remarkably calm to the point that even he was surprised.

"Just do this one more thing for me, then your obligation is done, you're off the hook," she was pacing.

"The hook?" he questioned, thoroughly confused by her ranting.

She stood next to the wall near the patio door, face flushed, eyes tearing slightly, more with irritation than sadness, "I never thought I'd reach the point when I'd no longer be at all intriguing to you… and you'd prefer to…"

"Shut up!" he finally roared, his attempts to remain calm thwarted by her unwillingness to listen. He walked over to her at the wall, caging her between his body, the corner, and one arm leaning against the wall to block her in, but without any direct contact. Her face was shocked, but she was finally silent and looked up at him with sheer vulnerability.

His voice turned soft, low and calm again, "Please…" he breathed a relieved sigh. "Listen to me. You still look…" he breathed out an almost complimentary sigh signifying that he was without the proper words. "If we had continued, I would definitely want the lights on, and I'd be pretty insulted if you refused to kiss me, so don't turn this into something about you losing your do-ability…You should know better."

Her chest was still heaving as she looked up at him, confused by his rejection. "Then why?" she asked almost whining, "I'm not asking for a commitment. I've trusted you with so much this week, and…I haven't regretted it. I miss…that…with you…"

He couldn't help but offer a half grin at her compliment. "Think about the times when we've started stuff between us…" he said, refusing to be distracted.

"I _am_ remembering, that's why I want this."

"Whenever you and I are drawn to each other…one of us is falling apart. One of us is…crying, on the verge of collapse…"

She rolled her eyes. "It's true," he asserted. "When you dumped me I thought I'd never be OK again. I thought I'd never stop spiraling. At some point, I did, but take a second to consider how far I went before I reached that stage. I could have killed you…I was definitely on the road to killing me…I can't go back there."

She nodded, waiting for him to continue. "I'm trying here," he said. "I want you…believe me I do, and I know I am going to regret saying no, half of me already does…But…I don't know how I'd handle losing you again…I don't know where I'd end up. I know I couldn't hurt you…" he looked at her with deep anguish that demonstrated his sorrow for his previous actions. "I wouldn't ever put you in harm's way again..."

"I believe you…I do…you've shown me something this last week unlike anything I ever expected from you."

"Then hopefully you'll accept that I can't put myself in harm's way either."

Her face displayed a look of clear shock. "You're looking for a commitment?"

"I don't know," he whispered, looking away. "What I do know…is that I don't want this to just be another case of us finding each other because of tragedy and then allowing history to repeat itself. Face it you'd never get this upset if you weren't already going through so much." He moved away from her, over to the table, and swilled his scotch in an attempt to regain his composure.

She remained, leaning against the wall, trying to digest everything he was saying. "You think you'd regret it?"

"You were the one to regret it last time Cuddy…not me…I was…invested, although in retrospect you really…you deserved more."

"So did you," she said, her brow furrowed, lips tightly pressed together and eyes still red and watery.

He looked clearly taken aback.

She continued, "You deserved better too. We gave it a shot and it didn't work out, but I didn't do all I could to help make it work. I think…some part of me was convinced it would fail all along. "

He scoffed softly, "That's the problem Cuddy, in our own way…we did work. I'm not saying we were going to be couple of the year…we were two people who spent more of their adult lives out of serious relationships than in them. We tried to figure out overnight how to be together while we were still working together…it's not an easy thing to figure out…doesn't matter I guess."

He flopped down on the sofa, uncertain where to go from there. She followed him and sat down next to him, her hands folded in her lap. They sat for several moments, neither knowing what to do at the next. "House?" she questioned nervously.

"Huh?"

"What _do _you want?"

"What do _you_ want?" he returned the question.

"I'm glad we have another week…because...I know I don't want you to go back to your life yet"

"If we aren't sure what to do…maybe we should just…try not to fuck it up…whatever it is," he replied.

"I'll leave you alone for a while," she stated, assuming that was what he wanted.

She started to walk away when she stopped and turned, "Just now…when I kissed you…" she started.

"Yea…" he looked up at her only half meeting her gaze.

"Which one of us was crying?"

"What?" he answered.

"I know I've been…having a rough time…but, in that moment, which one of us was crying, or falling apart…sounded a lot more like…laughing to me…"

His face remained expressionless as she watched the wheels turning in his head. She smiled an almost regretful smile and turned to go down the stairs. He looked outside and saw the rain ending, clouds separating, and reacted. He hopped up from the sofa and hobbled over to the top stairs as fast as he could, just as Cuddy reached the base of them. "Cuddy…" he said loudly, catching a breath to think.

She turned to look back up at him and waited for him to continue.

"Can you _try_ to wear something decent for a change?"

"Huh?" she looked at him uncertainly.

"Rain stopped"

"Good," she answered, uncertain of where he was going with his thoughts.

He nodded absently. "Wanna go eat overpriced food?" he asked, taking a breath so deep she could see his shoulders rise and fall from the foot of the stairs.

She bit her lip and offered half a smile. "Sure. I'll get ready."

"Good, that'll give me enough time to get dressed," he started to turn away and quickly looked back down the stairs at her, "…and cure cancer," he smirked.

She shook her head at him, smiling, "ass."

He smiled before a look akin to terror crossed his face. He walked over to his phone turned it on and placed a call.

"I'm working, can I call you back," Kate answered in her calm professional voice.

"You don't work…you hold hands and hand out tissues…I think I have a date…"

"No way, what happened?" she asked, as he could hear her moving to a safe place to talk.

"Umm…she kissed me and then I turned her down"

"Wait…what…you turned down the woman you've been pining for over the last how many freakin years?"

"I don't pine," he said with irritation.

Her response was complete silence.

"Wipe that look off of your face. Fine…I pine…if we include the years prior to the actual dating I have decades of experience…are you happy?"

"So you rejected her?"

"I didn't _reject_ her...well...sort of"

"How do you 'sort of' reject someone?"

"I told her I couldn't sleep with her"

"Right, why would you want to do that…so if she walked up to you right now half naked and…"

He groaned in regret at the concept. "That…" Kate continued, "is definitely the sound of someone who has no interest in sleeping with her at all."

"Seriously? You talk to your patients like that? Aren't you supposed to encourage healthy loving relationships… emotionally meaningful communication over meaningless sex?"

"I thought I didn't have patients. I'm guessing the sex would be far from meaningless…but, I'm proud of you. You want her near you more than you want her under you…and on top of you…and…"

"I get the picture," he interrupted.

"It's sweet. Really, House…this is great," she said her tone now serious. "You like her…and not many people get a second chance. Well…a third chance…or…fourth?"

"I've lost count"

"Well, however many…it doesn't matter. So you turned her down...but you have a date?"

"I...asked her to go to dinner...after that"

"Wow…you...love her."

"I don't know where this is goi…"

"Stop," she interrupted quickly, "You love her. You love her so much you don't even consider the _possibility_ of someone else…"

He sighed, "I just need to try not to fuck it up. How do I avoid making the same mistakes I made last time?"

"Let her drive."

He chuckled in spite of himself, "Nice…are we friends? You are seriously like…the best I could do?"

"I was the only one to answer the ad. You know I love you."

"Whatever."

**A/N-**next time...the date :) More soon. Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N-**Hey Everyone, as always, thanks so much for the reviews and encouragement. In response to some reviews/messages: this won't be my last story, as long as I can come up with more ideas. I'm glad you guys like the regular updates, i thought it might be a bit much, so I'm really glad to hear it's working for people, it keeps me busy and out of trouble.

It is so incredibly frustrating to try to update when the site is down!

-Remember, as far as this fic's concerned, Season 8 didn't really happen…so my references to House's incarceration and Vicodin habit will be different than what's been seen this year.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters…except Kate

* * *

><p>Cuddy moved somewhat apprehensively around the room as she got ready. She chose a sun dress that was flowy and feminine but not too revealing. She couldn't help but wonder what, if anything, was going on between them and although she now understood more about his feelings, she wasn't exactly sure if this was a date or two friends hanging out. In one moment he was flirtatious, the next pushing her away, although his pushing didn't seem cruel, it seemed like self-preservation. Once she was ready she walked out of her room to see him sitting on the chair, long legs stretched out on the table in front of him. Her breath hitched for a moment as she walked over.<p>

He stood to leave with her and she was amazed that he looked so incredible in his normal clothes. His jeans were relatively new, and his tee shirt wasn't wrinkled, his own version of 'fancy dress.' She both loved and hated the easy way he prompted a response from her: one look could make her heart pound, a few words said in just the right way sent tingles down her spine. She tried to convince him she was OK with casual sex, but she knew differently. She suspected days earlier that her feelings for him were redeveloping, but realized that, despite everything, the feelings hadn't ever really faded in the first place. Coming to that realization did nothing to temper the feelings, in fact, it only served to make them more palpable.

They sat at the table in the restaurant, quietly perusing the menu. She could tell he was nervous and less comfortable than he had been in the last few days. "Oh come on…relax," she said, "You and I have eaten together tons of times. This isn't different. It's just you and me."

He nodded smiling, "you're right."

"So let's talk"

He nodded, trying to think of something to ask. "Your mom still alive?" he asked.

"You can ask anything you want and you bring up my mom?"

"More piercing questions later…besides never a dull moment with Arlene…"

"True! I'm relatively certain she'll outlive us all. She's still around and critiquing my every decision…"

"How did she like your ex?"

"Umm…" Cuddy shifted uncomfortably.

"Just curious…after being a victim of her scrutiny, I'd like to know how others have fared."

"Initially…she liked that he was Jewish, then she met him…and she actually mentioned you the first time that she met him."

"Me?"

"Right, allowing yet another guy to question me on a regular basis about you and our relationship…nothing like planting some insecurities early on. It was really a very comfortable dinner. She still insists you are the only man that will ever put up with me."

"Even after I did significant property damage? That didn't…alter her perceptions of me?"

"She said that at least I found someone willing to take a stand."

His eyes grew wide as he looked at her, "Really? Your mom felt I was ...making a statement?"

"She felt it was a declaration of love...a…crime of passion. And that no other man was ever willing to risk life and limb as well as trouble with the law to express his feelings to me."

"God, I'm romantic…" he said, clutching at his heart. "So she wasn't at all concerned that you were in the building?"

"Oh, don't worry…had Rachel been home that night, she'd hate you forever"

He blinked, "I was like the son she never had."

"Right…chip off the old bitch," she laughed. "You know Rachel talked about you for a long time"

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her you were really sick and they sent you far away to make you better. She never went back to the old place…I didn't want her to see it. She stayed with my mom at a hotel until I could get us moved. I'd go back to the hotel at night, tired and…incredibly pissed at you…and she'd say, 'House coming back tomorrow?' or she'd talk about the damn monster trucks," she shook her head with disbelief.

"I'm sorry…I don't…"

"OK," she interrupted, "You are sorry for what happened after we broke up, I know this. We don't have to…hash it out anymore. I forgive you…it's…done."

He stared at her stunned, "that's it?"

"That's it. If we want to move forward…in _any_ capacity, we have to let that stuff go. I hope that you can forgive me for hurting you, but it's not a condition for my acceptance of your apology."

"Consider it accepted," he still looked confused.

"OK, so it's accepted, but you're still thinking something that has your face all wrinkled up in the 'dissatisfied thoughts' expression you do so well."

"I've thought about this for a long time. Resentment, regret, hurt… the building blocks of any good relationship that you sustain with a person who isn't even there anymore. This has all been part of me for years. If it's gone…what will I think about?"

"I have a few suggestions…" she raised one eyebrow fleetingly.

He looked stunned but couldn't suppress a small grin.

"Sorry," she said, "I shouldn't have said that." She cleared her throat, "So…we were talking about Rachel and her infuriating memory for all things you."

He chuckled, "I'm sure it didn't take her too long to forget"

"I…honestly don't think she ever really forgot"

"Unlikely…kids that age wouldn't really remember"

"OK fine…I know about brain development and what kids are _supposed_ to remember. She had this…picture of you, probably helped"

"No one has a picture of me"

"She did, I don't even know where she got it. Must have been my mother. Rachel would hide it from me. She was…sneaky. But she asked about you on an almost daily basis for an inordinately long time. Finally I was relieved when she stopped asking. Each day that went by I thought…OK…good, we are moving on. Because, coupled with all of the other feelings I was having, I was feeling bad for removing you from her…she…_wanted_ to be near you. I felt guilty."

"Cuddy's love me. But eventually, she did stop…"

"Yea…and then one Saturday, I was listening to her playing in her room, and realized she had an imaginary friend…with a goddamn cane"

He chuckled, "is that an imaginary friend or a boogie man?"

She smiled, "I was so irritated. I mean, there were a few seconds there, I was standing by the hall closet, putting sheets away, and it was the first time I heard her mention this new friend…and I walked back there absolutely certain I would find you sitting on the floor with her. It really wouldn't have surprised me."

"That's…definitely interesting." He continued with an expression of innocence, "if she ever mentioned her imaginary friend watching you in the shower…I had nothing to do with it."

She smirked, "the kid liked you House. A lot. Everyone says kids are good judges of character. I didn't want to admit it at the time, but being around you…was sometimes good for her. She thought Matthew was…OK. Actually, I really think he bored her too. She would get this…look when he'd talk, her eyes would almost glaze over…it kinda reminded me of you. Because she'd…stare at him, eyes wide, and then sorta shake her head and turn and look at me and ask to go do whatever she could come up with instead of sitting there."

"You are talking about her…and smiling," he said without judgment.

She nodded.

"Truth?" he asked.

"Absolutely. Go ahead."

"Do you want to another kid? I mean…at some point down the line when some of the wounds are healed…you could easily adopt another kid, I'm sure adoption agencies would fall over themselves for someone like you"

She took a few moments to gather her thoughts. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he added.

"No, it's…a perfectly valid question. I just…think…I feel bad for the answer. I…don't want to. I _love_ Rachel…in a way that I could never duplicate. I'm not saying I'm incapable of loving another child…I know I'm perfectly able. I think if I did that, it would probably just be an attempt to replace something I've lost, and it just can't be done"

"A very enlightened perspective"

"Plus…I'm sort of…crazy…"

He scoffed, "_You_…are not crazy"

"A little. I mean, I've spent my entire life…pursuing. It's the one word that seems to encapsulate me. Academic perfection, career advancement, creating the perfect hospital, motherhood, improved clinics...everything is a challenge. I put all of this time and energy into the pursuing and I never enjoy the benefits. I think…I want to stop."

"OK…so you are a little crazy. Kinda doubt you can change that part of you. Like I said…modest changes…shifts, sure, but removing entire identifying traits…eh… The driven part, it's an awful lot of the joy that is Cuddy. It's like completely removing my asshood."

"At least maybe slow down then…I mean…nothing's impossible. You quit Vicodin. How long's it been now?"

"2-1/2 years since the last pill"

"That's a long time"

He shook his head, "it is"

Their food came out and disappeared slowly as they seemed unwilling to forgo the conversation in favor of the sustenance.

"So, how'd you do it? Just a case of it being unattainable in jail…or…"

His body language tensed, and she could see he was less comfortable discussing this, but he continued nonetheless. "No…it wasn't unattainable in jail. They actually provided me with small regulated doses. You can tell you've never been inside," he said, in a somewhat theatrically criminal tone. "It…became a fantastic way to spend my time. Devising ways to find and get and take. It's boring in there, you need something to do. I had this…caseworker-counselor person…that suggested that I might do better with the parole board if I was able to be off of it completely. Which, naturally just pissed me off, and made me take more, until I got…too tired. The high became negligible, and it wasn't fun outsmarting idiots I'd outsmarted fifty times before…and I wanted to get out. I wanted to pick what I was going to eat, I wanted to feel like I wasn't watching my back every moment of every day…this may come as a surprise, but I didn't exactly make a lot of friends in there. They were nice enough to let me suffer through the worse of the detox in the infirmary. That was the worst part…and I think after going through it that time…I realized I just don't want to ever have to do that again…it hurts! Then I actually got paroled. I knew, one failed drug test, and it was back inside. At some point…it just took. There are times when I think about it, and I just try to remember to think through the next ten steps I'd have to take after taking it."

"It's really amazing, you are doing so well."

He poked his food, staring down at his plate. "I missed you. Even when I was angry with you, I still missed you," he fidgeted and tried to redirect, "I can't believe it…but… I miss…Wilson"

She smiled, "I wondered about that"

"Kate's great…she has helped me get where I am, and she is a good friend…but…there's nothing like your first."

Cuddy rolled her eyes giggling, "You could call him"

"I don't know if he'd talk to me"

"He would talk to you. He probably misses you too. I think he'd be pleasantly surprised to see how well you are doing. I get the impression that he always sort of pictured you setting up camp in a gutter somewhere and awaiting death."

House shrugged, "that was my second option after suburban life with a lesbian. I dunno…he has the wife and kid on the way, and I've always been toxic to his relationships."

"Umm…he's toxic to his relationships…you just didn't help. I don't think he'd even let you get in the way of this one. Consider it…I'll help if you want to see him."

After a few moments she continued, "Look," she said avoiding eye contact, "While we are discussing things…I just want to be upfront so you don't feel mislead. I still have…some…feelings… I know you don't want to get hurt…and…neither do I. I don't want you to think I'm just interested in using you for sex so I can be distracted…because…I'm not…and...I don't want you to think I'm turning to you because I'm lost…or sad. I mean…I guess initially I turned to you because I was sad…that was when I was looking for a bully…not a…umm... Anyway, if, at some point, you think maybe there is something left between us… God this is awkward," she said, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips.

He smiled but provided no direct answer. "Think it's weird that we keep ending up around each other?" he asked.

She thought for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe we are collectively too screwed up to be around other people. Maybe there's some…force at work that draws us together. Maybe some part of each of us secretly wants to get it right and we create situations where we give ourselves another chance…" she winced, concerned about his reaction.

"Maybe"

The bill came, which she took. They started to walk outside, when she stopped him, "Go ahead, I'll meet you outside. Restroom," she said pointing.

She walked away and he could barely fight the urge to follow her. No matter how good his intentions, they always had that attraction. He desperately wanted to bunch that pretty sundress up around her waist, rip the straps from her shoulders and have her quivering beneath him calling his name. He felt that way for decades, even when he had her as his own, he constantly wanted more of her. He never craved anything like he craved her.

He knew her uncomfortable admission of feelings must have been very difficult. So far she had been making all of the moves, and he was patient, his fear of loss and pain providing a buffer he could use to protect himself. As he thought about the fact that she not only _had_ feelings, but _admitted_ them, he was struck by how vulnerable she had made herself. His mind finally felt freed of some of the guilt and anger he had regarding her, and the fear lessened.

Once they were back at their place she poured drinks and found him swinging on the hammock. She moved to hand him his drink and he took both of them, placing them on the table next to him. "Hop on," he said patting the hammock off to his side.

She slid in next to him. He picked up one of her hands, holding it close to him, and started playing with her fingers, gently tracing the curves of each one between his as if he were trying to memorize the details of each digit. "I've been thinking about what you said…and the more I think about it, this…friendship thing is not working for me at all…to be perfectly honest, I'm not all that thrilled with the non-enemies arrangement either…"

"OK…" she responded nervously. "Where are you going with this?"

"I'm thinking the nuclear option..." he said, still tracing her fingers but turning his gaze to her face. "Hopefully something with more…non-verbal communication and fewer clothes."

Her shoulders shrugged with silent giggle, "OK…what about trying not to get hurt…"

"Avoiding pain is impossible. Attempting to avoid pain is my pattern. Which I was OK with." He finished his study of her long narrow fingers and flipped her hand up to look at the palm, which he now attempted to memorize as well, with long, deep presses of his thumb along the ridges on the skin. "I can guarantee you won't hurt me if I pack my things and go home, but I also guarantee I'll be watching Kate bring home girls, probably eventually settling on one girl, while I go to sleep alone." He fell silent for some time before continuing, his voice barely above a whisper, "She told me that I'm so hung up on you that I don't even consider the possibility of anyone else."

Cuddy withdrew the hand he was so meticulously learning and rolled onto her side facing him, placing the other hand against his upper stomach so he could catalog the shapes, ridges and valleys of that hand as well. "Is she right?"

"Maybe," he said softly, still staring intently at her hand. He stopped, looked over at her and took a deep breath, "probably."

"So this whole, naked, non-verbal communication option…how do we get on that plan?"

"Well," he said rolling his eyes, "It's complicated…I've reclaimed my virginity for religious reasons…"

She giggled louder now, "So I'd have to re-deflower you?"

"Yes, absolutely. You just have to meet the approval of my cult leader, convert, and be bound to me in an ancient ceremony involving antelopes and whipped topping."

"Intriguing," she responded looking thoroughly entertained, "I have the antelopes, but I'm completely out of whipped topping."

"And me without my cult leader…" he added, wrapping one long arm around her to pull her closer. "I guess we'll have to settle for oral sex until we find the supplies we need. The sacrifices I'll make in the name of my beliefs," he added with artificial piety.

"How devout," she replied sarcastically.

She tilted her face toward his, looking at his lips, and pulled her lower lip into her mouth. She gave him all of the signs that she was waiting to be kissed, but he calmly watched her. "OK," she said, forcing a smile, frustrated beyond words at his inaction but trying to allow them to go at a pace that was comfortable to him.

She shifted to get out of the hammock and his hand was on her arm pulling her back in an instant. A contented sigh emerged from her as his lips pressed softly but insistently to hers. The tentative, delicate nature of their previous brief encounters since reuniting seemed forgotten. He immediately deepened this kiss, pulling her flush against him. She reached up to stroke his face with one hand, the other running down his side to his hip. He was easily intoxicated by the feel and taste of her. His hand moved down the dip in her back slowly, enjoying the slope downward toward the small of her back and the gradual curve back up to her ass. His hand firmly grasped one cheek, pulling her even tighter against him, unwilling to leave any unnecessary space between them, eventually allowing his hand to move down to pull her leg up over his hip. He moved from her mouth kissing along her jaw line to the spot below her ear. She shuddered against him…an accomplishment that always left him feeling both proud and raw with desire.

"Why were you waiting," she moaned softly.

He answered with an unintelligible grunt.

"Were you just messing with me?"

He pulled his face from her neck and shoulder and looked at her, eyes intense and gleaming as he smiled, "Definitely…"

He ran his nose along hers and looked down to watch his hand move up along her side and linger right below her breast, trying to allow all of his senses the opportunity to appreciate the moment.

"Are you just messing with me now?"

"No way" he smiled, "but it is really hard to move in this hammock, so I think we should go elsewhere."

"We could…" she replied, moving to carefully straddle him and pressing her pelvis against him with one long sustained motion. They each groaned. "I want you so badly," she whispered against his lips, "but, are you sure you are OK with this?"

He nodded enthusiastically, "Oh yea…I'm sure."

He started gathering the skirt of her dress in his hands and working it up her thighs, dragging his fingers against the soft smooth skin of her legs. "What's that?" she asked suspiciously looking around.

"Nothing" he mumbled, unable to pull his attention from her.

"No I'm serious, what's that noise?" she asked, removing herself from the hammock, standing up and walking toward the kitchen.

He groaned, dropping his head back onto the hammock, "it's the sound of me whining"

He clumsily rose from the hammock, finding that removing himself from it was as frustrating as their current circumstance. He followed her to the kitchen and stood behind her, wrapping his long fingers around her hips and pulling her back toward him, his lips settling at the junction of her shoulder and neck. His plan of action was cast aside when he heard the sound of the downstairs door closing. "OK…that I heard," he said with concern.

He grabbed his cane as the only weapon readily handy, while looking toward the kitchen for anything else he could use. He whispered loudly to her, "Go into the bedroom and call the cops."

"No way! I'm not leaving you out here"

"Are you insane? Someone has to make the damn call, I'm not going to go back there and leave you out here alone!"

"No…no way, I'm not leaving _you_ out here alone, especially when I don't know how many people are down there."

House stood over her, menacingly, trying to intimidate her into a retreat when they heard a voice behind them, "Get the hell away from her!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**-i don't own House or the characters from the show

* * *

><p>House turned around to see Wilson behind him, his face contorted with rage, "I said get the hell away from her!"<p>

House smiled, "Wilson, I see you've maintained your girlish figure"

"Hasn't she been through enough? You follow her here to…what…increase her misery?"

Wilson charged at him, hand pulled into a tight fist, arm drawn back, until Cuddy calmly stepped in front of him, "I'm OK, everything is fine"

"He better not of hurt you…did he," he turned to House, "Did you hurt her?"

"Wilson, relax, I asked him to come here," Cuddy said in a pacifying tone. "He's…doing me a favor"

"Then he's not the only one who's insane," Wilson said, nodding in disbelief, his hand pressed to his temple.

Wilson looked over at House who watched him with a completely pleasant expression, "Wilson…you haven't changed, so good to have the old gang back together."

Wilson turned to Cuddy, clearly irritated and questioning her decisions, "You…actually went somewhere to clear your head and called him?" he pointed toward House. "You thought, I don't know, 'I need to find the _one_ person who's least likely to help me heal in a healthy manner,' or were you just hoping to hop on his pain management plan…it's always worked _so_ well for him."

House scooted up on the counter to watch the interaction as if he were watching a tennis match. "I…needed someone who could be brutally honest. Someone I could be brutally honest with."

"Ann and I have been there for you…we've each offered repeatedly and you've said next to nothing to either of us"

"I know. I appreciate what you were trying to do. I needed something else."

"Why not turn to someone who actually cares about your well-being? You went…to the man who assaulted you…that's actually really suspicious behavior Cuddy…it's …unhealthy."

"And…we've had a week to discuss some things…which you weren't privy too… I appreciate your concern, but I needed someone who wasn't going to just say the things he felt obligated to say. If you take a few minutes to talk to me rationally, you'll realize I'm actually doing a little better"

"Because you thrive on conflict! You spent how many years in that strange dysfunctional 'relationship'…or whatever you want to call it."

"Well the alternative wasn't working. I was spinning my wheels…and he's actually been…almost nice…for him."

Wilson and Cuddy both looked over at him. He looked completely entertained and gestured with a flourish, "Keep going, I love a cat fight"

"My wife is down in the car…I can't bring her in with him here"

"Wilson…he's not using. He's doing OK…I have been with him all week…she will be fine. If you are that uncomfortable, we'll go to a hotel overnight, you guys can stay here, and we'll talk in the morning. "

"No…no…just…let me go get her. We were worried that something happened to you. You were so distant on the phone the other day…and then you didn't answer this morning."

"I've been distant for months…I didn't have my phone with me all day, that's all."

Wilson shook his head, "This is insanity. The two of you shouldn't even be speaking. I'm…" he waved his hands with exasperation, "I'm gonna go get Ann, House…don't piss me off …"

House raised his hands in surrender, "Got it," he said and smiled at his one-time friend.

Wilson left and Cuddy walked into the bedroom. House followed her, pulling her to him and pushing the door closed with her body. "Wilson said we shouldn't speak…just listening to orders."

She giggled, reached up and gave him a delicate kiss. She placed her hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly, he looked at her, his hands greedily touching her. "I think we need to give him a little time to adjust…maybe not tell him we're doing…whatever we're doing...until he gets a chance to see for himself that things are different…otherwise, he may just have us both committed."

"I know," House replied with some disappointment. He leaned down to kiss her when his phone rang. He looked at the display, answered it and shouted, "I'm doing it now, I'm fucking doing it now…Or at least trying to. It's under control." He hung up and tossed his phone across the room.

Her eyes were wide with surprise, "Everything OK?"

"Between her and Wilson, the two of them have spent countless hours trying to get me to make a move on you. Then I try to actually do something about it and they do nothing but interrupt.

She giggled, "Yea…I know, but we better go out there, because they're going to be upstairs any second."

"Maybe we are in some bizarre purgatory where we're forced to atone for our sins through sexual frustration…doomed to get so close and always come up short."

"Like a pornographic version of Sisyphus?"

He chuckled, "Yea, something like that. If it's just a case of atonement, then I think we're more than paid up…If it's eternal damnation, I'm going to be really cranky in a year…or two days."

She smiled as they walked out into the kitchen. Wilson and his wife came in and introductions were made. House was prepared for scornful judgment from Ann, but was surprised when she extended a friendly hand and told him she was excited to meet him. Cuddy's description was quite accurate. Ann was tall, absolutely beautiful, and had an air of class about her. Cuddy went up to her immediately, giving her a hug and a warm smile that Wilson and Ann wouldn't question, but House knew hid her pain.

"You guys didn't have to come the whole way down here. I told you I'd be fine," Cuddy said to Ann.

Ann smiled at her, scrutinizing her features, "You…look pretty good. How are you feeling?"

"I'm doing well, I'm enjoying my time here."

They walked out to the patio to talk, leaving House and Wilson alone.

"What are you doing here?" Wilson asked skeptically.

"Cuddy invited me"

"What are you _really_ doing here?"

"Oh…'_really_ doing here?' Well…umm…Cuddy invited me," he responded tersely.

"So you just…decide…when her whole life's falling apart, to show up on her doorstep? Thought it might be fun to toy with her when she's completely vulnerable? I mean you are really amazing House, you picked the perfect time to completely destroy what's left of her."

"Cuddy's not as weak as you make her out to be. Which, is probably why I was asked here instead of you. She didn't need to be coddled. And she showed up on _my_ doorstep…I didn't go looking for her"

Wilson was now looking him over openly.

"What?"

"Are you high?"

"Nope… Quit a couple of years ago"

"When you started fucking everything up, I was the one who stood by her. I saw the wreckage you left behind…both literally and metaphorically"

"I admit that I fucked up. I'm trying"

Wilson watched House with interest, noticing that House was looking right past him toward the two women talking on the patio.

"Are you checking out my wife?"

House looked out the side of his eye at Wilson, "Yea…because that's my new thing, your pregnant wife."

"She's pretty hot though, right?" Wilson said, finally cracking a small smile.

"You did good Wilson"

"Seriously House…I don't see what you have to gain by this. Are you just here fucking with her? She's had a really bad year."

"I'm not fucking with her. Ask her"

"Maybe you're just hoping she's depressed and confused enough to start sleeping with you again"

"Yea, definitely, that sounds like me. I would spend days listening to a woman cry to get laid instead of just hiring a hooker."

"She has summarily dismissed nearly every guy who has shown an interest. 'Too boring, too stupid, too nice…' She compares everyone to you, whether she admits it or not. Some good guys have tried…They don't get past the first date. One guy…one made it longer. She kept him so far from her I don't even know if it qualifies as a relationship."

House nodded his head.

"No pithy comments?"

"Nope"

"You…seem different," Wilson said hesitantly.

House nodded again without response, continuing to watch her.

"Do you…still like her?"

"NO!" House made a disgusted face, which Wilson just watched suspiciously. House's look faded, "I guess…I missed her"

Wilson looked shocked. "That was remarkably honest. I don't think she's ever gotten over you…seriously, don't drag her into your games. I honestly…wasn't sure she'd ever be the same…and then Rachel…"

House nodded, still watching them until the two women came back into the room. Cuddy told them, "I'm going to move my stuff upstairs to one of the other rooms so Ann doesn't get stuck doing that many stairs."

"I can move to one of the rooms up there too," House added.

"Why would you need to move up there too? We don't need both rooms" Wilson inquired.

"Well, then Cuddy won't be on the third floor alone."

"What is she five?"

House shot a scowl at Wilson.

Cuddy gathered her things from the room and Wilson helped her carry them upstairs. "So…you called House? Of all people, really?" Wilson asked her once they were alone.

"I …went to see him. Sorry I didn't tell you"

"Why would you even want to talk to him?"

"He's…part of my life. Sometimes you need someone like him to bore through the bullshit. You know I love you Wilson, but you are not that person. You are kind and sweet…and…I needed someone who wasn't walking on eggshells."

"You still have feelings for him…"

"You have been telling me that for years"

"And I've been right…for years"

"I…missed him"

Wilson smirked at her mirror image of House's confession. "Wilson…" she said warningly, "don't meddle…stay out of it. House and I are adults…we can handle ourselves in adult ways"

"I remember House discussing the 'adult ways' you handled yourselves from time to time"

Cuddy blushed instantly, shaking her head in a denial contradicted by the embarrassed look on her face. "Shut up Wilson," she scowled as she walked away.

"Oh my god…I left them down there alone," Wilson said as he walked quickly to the stairs.

When the walked back down, House and Ann were calmly discussing clinical trials of a new drug. House actually seemed, almost professional. Wilson listened on, completely confused by the sight before him.

Ann looked at Wilson, rubbing her rounded stomach, "James, I forgot my bag with my contact stuff and lotion, can we go…"

"Write down what you want, I'll go get it," Cuddy offered.

She looked expectantly at House, "I'll go along, need to pick up some fresh porn anyway."

"Are you sure? We can go…" Ann began.

"No, you've been in the car all day, and I could use the air," Cuddy said smiling.

House smiled at Wilson as he walked past him and left with Cuddy.

Wilson looked at Ann, "Something's going on"

* * *

><p>They got in her car and headed down the road with the small list of things Ann needed. "You OK?" he asked.<p>

"I'm fine! Why?"

"I saw your face when you saw Ann. Seeing her like that…"

"I told you, I am happy for them"

"I know…and I believe you. But you can be happy for them, and sad for you at the same time."

"I don't want another child. I wasn't being coy…I don't. Want. Another. Child."

"I know you don't want another child…you want_ your_ child. It's unfair that they still have theirs…or at least a potential soon-to-be child…and you don't"

She tensed, her fingers gripping tightly on the wheel. He could see the stress on her face on her face and spoke gently, "I'm not trying to be an asshole. I'm just saying that, I sort of felt odd about it, so I thought you might. I certainly won't think any less of you for having feelings that seem perfectly rational."

"I'm fine," she smiled stiffly.

"OK," he responded, slipping into silence.

"Fine it…it… fucking sucks. She's 29 and has accomplished almost everything I've ever worked for. She's having a baby, she's successful, she has a husband who loves her…In three months she'll be holding that kid…and…"

He watched her patiently waiting as she formed the thoughts. They pulled into a spot outside of the 24 hours drug store and she put the car in park. "In three months…they will hold their baby for the first time… They'll get that first real hug…watch him graduate high school, maybe see him fall in love. That part of my life is over. I didn't get to see her have her first crush, or learn what she was going to be when she grew up… It…it actually kind of makes me angry. I guess that sounds pathetic"

"It sounds pathetic that you realize you were shortchanged? You were, you got, completely screwed on this deal. It's not pathetic," he said heatedly.

"I don't want to look back on my life and see the only thing I have left is my career. Maybe…I want more. Maybe I want a relationship to," she said looking out the window. "I want someone who actually wants to be with me. "

"From what Wilson said, you didn't have a shortage of men who wanted to be with you…you had a shortage of men you wanted to be with."

"Are we going dance around this?" she said turning toward him, "we both know what I want."

She got out of the car, he followed shortly after. She went in and gathered the needed items while he waited outside. He leaned calmly against the building, watching her as she and approached him. She was adjusting her purse when he grabbed her and pulled her to the side of the building. "I'm growing tired of waiting," his voice was deep and ragged, sexually charged in a way that almost sounded threatening.

She shivered in anticipation. He was intimidating, his size, his intelligence, the sound of his voice, and at moments like these, it was exactly what she craved. "Look, I tried. _You _turned _me_ down. I wanted you to take me there on the pool table hours ago. Knowing you and I…we could be on the third round by now," she said in a sultry tone, casting a look that would make any other man crumble.

He traced his nose and lips along her jawline faintly. She ran her fingers up to his neck, pulling him closer, her body relinquishing control to him as he moved to her ear. "God you feel…so amazing…" she whispered, pulling his body even closer. He had her pinned against the wall and she was kissing him roughly, the need that had been building fueling their actions.

He pulled his face back, but still held her close, "look…Cuddy…"

"Don't you dare!" she said sounding really irritated, "don't pull away again…I'm starting to get the wrong kind of ache here."

He smiled faintly and leaned his forehead down to hers, his hand running up and down her side as he kept her close. He silenced her with a kiss that destroyed the tentative veil that seemed to coat their interactions. Their movements growing more frantic and impassioned as she pressed her body up against him and ran a hand up under his shirt, ticking along his waist and enjoying the way he shivered against her…she loved cracking through his control. She moaned softly into his ear, her need consuming her entirely. Her hand moved to the bottom of his shirt, lifted it and started to release his belt buckle until she felt his hands stop her movement.

She put her head back, against the wall, eyes closed, "Please would you stop thinking for 10 minutes and fuck me."

"Ten minutes? I'm hurt, you have forgotten me. I just thought that perhaps you'd like to know that we are outside…leaning against a store wall. And there is a woman who looks to be about a hundred years old watching us from her car in the parking lot. I'm all for an audience, so if you insist," he said, giggling as he reached down to pull up the bottom of her sundress.

Her eyes popped open as she looked around, "Oh god, I can't believe I just…."

"No really Cuddy, it's fine, you know how I hate to disappoint you"

She slapped his arm, "Come on, let's go," she said, attempting to flee the scene of the crime. She walked with as much confidence as she could muster past the aging woman scowling her disapproval. House smiled leeringly at the old woman who refused to drop her glare.

"Hop in, there's always room for one more," he said to her, raising an eyebrow and pointing into the car.

"Pervert," the old woman barked back.

He spoke as he shut the car door, "You were completely going to do me in an alleyway…speaking of pivotal life decisions…I'll always look back on reminding you of that fact with regret."

"You always…do that"

"Do what?" he asked with amusement.

"You get me all…caught up in the moment and I get reckless!"

"One of my favorite things about you"

After a few moments he asked, "They say how long they are staying?"

"Just two days," she answered.

"Oh thank god!" he said, lolling his head back against the seat. "So that still leaves us a few days of uninterrupted, unbridled passion before we have to leave."

"Yes," she responded. "I…think maybe we should try to get rid of them for a few hours tomorrow…send them out shopping or something?"

"Tomorrow is a long time from now. Tonight after they go to bed I may…inadvertently wander into your room…"

"Promise?"

"I'll drug Wilson if I have to"

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><p><strong>AN**-I was really shocked to see that people actually wanted this to get smutty...such a surprise. :) Don't worry...i sense a pleasant addition to the disclaimer.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N-**100 reviews...no way, thank you SO MUCH! When i started writing this, I never thought so many people would read!

Hope it was worth the wait! :)

**Disclaimer**-I don't own the characters from House, MD. This story contains adult content. If you shouldn't read it, or don't like it...don't read.

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><p>When they returned to the house, Wilson and Ann were relaxing in the living room. Ann took the items Cuddy had bought her and pulled her into their bedroom.<p>

"He's…not what I expected…" Ann said, waiting for Cuddy to offer information that wasn't forthcoming. "Lisa?"

"Yea"

"Is there something going on there…"

"It's nothing, we're friends, or at least our own screwed up version of friends."

"I always pictured someone much more menacing. He is...a lot better looking than I anticipated…and really tall..."

Cuddy smiled, "Don't give him any compliments, he'll never let Wilson forget it."

Ann smiled, "Lisa, I hope you're doing OK, because, you never would have contacted him had you been in your right mind. What if you went to his place and he was still acting like a lunatic…what if he had hurt you? I understand sometimes people do irrational things, but that wasn't just irrational, it was flat out crazy."

"As screwed up as he is, and as many times as he's hurt me emotionally, he's never hurt me physically. In fact, there was never even a moment in our entire history where I thought he might hit me, or harm me in that way. He's…a genius…truly. I mean, I've never met anyone that can really hold a candle to him and one of the things that I learned from him over the years, was that, sometimes, in really extreme cases, the only solution is the solution that's so insane it seems ridiculous."

"Why not…try a psychiatrist? Try me, or James, or your sister. You haven't even _attempted_ to open up to any of us."

"No one knows me like House does. He knows my patterns, my history, and the bastard can read me like a book. I can't lie to him, because he sees right through it, and…he'd rather be upfront than tactful any day."

"You still made yourself unreasonably vulnerable. Even if just emotionally. James said he likes to play games with people's heads, and a person in as much pain as you've been in is the perfect target for a sociopath."

"He is _not_ a sociopath. Avoiding emotions and being unable to experience them are two very different things.

"How do you know he's not playing with you now? Waiting for the right moment…"

"I guess you'll just have to trust me to make my own decisions," Cuddy said, placing her hand on her friend's forearm and walking away from the discussion.

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><p>House sat on the chair opposite Wilson. "Where'd you meet her?"<p>

"Convention…She was discussing…"

"I'm sorry," House interrupted suddenly.

"Wh-what?" Wilson asked, thoroughly stunned.

"I'm sorry I freaked out, hurt you, put you in the position I put you in…and completely abandoned our friendship."

Wilson nodded, eyes wide, "Thank you?"

"So…" House continued, feeling much more uncomfortable about offering an apology to Wilson than he did Cuddy. "You…are going to be a daddy?"

"Oh goodie, I was waiting for this…yes, it's irrational, insane and stupid…what else do you want to say?"

House titled his head slightly, "Congratulations"

"Now you're just trying to scare me"

"I don't need to say anything else. When you're knee deep in baby poop, I'll feel satisfied that Wilson Jr. has said it all for me. Like a…tiny little me spokesperson"

"That's funny, we were going to name him after you"

"Seriously?"

"No…although 'Total Bastard Wilson' did have a nice ring to it"

House's expression changed entirely when he saw Cuddy at the door. Wilson mumbled under his breath, "This is a mistake."

"Isn't that supposed to be my line? Nothing is going on. You are reading something into nothing."

"Sure"

They heard a distant phone ringing and looked around. "Mine," House said getting up and limping into what was now Wilson and Ann's room.

"Why is his phone in there?" Ann asked.

"I borrowed it," Cuddy answered.

"So you didn't have your phone with you all day, but you borrowed his?" Ann asked incredulously.

She looked up thinking, "Yes. Would the two of you stop…looking for a conspiracy in everything!"

"Hey Honey!" they heard House answer loudly from the other room.

"House…has a…'honey'?" Wilson said.

"It's probably Kate," Cuddy answered.

"Of course…and…Kate?...doesn't mind that House is here, alone…with you?" Wilson asked suspiciously.

"He lives with her."

"This is so screwed up. You guys invite chaos wherever the two of you meet!"

"She's his roommate"

"Right. And the two of you were just toasting marshmallows and singing campfire songs during your sleepovers back in Princeton"

"She's his roommate...and a lesbian."

"Oh," Wilson answered with a tone of acceptance.

"Listen to me, because this is the last time I'll explain, House and I, are friends. That's it."

"Right," Wilson answered. "I just…wish I had kept track of all of the times you guys, had 'nothing to tell,' or 'didn't think of each other like that.' I've known both of you a long time."

* * *

><p>"So…" Kate asked, "Do I need to come find you…bring the emergency bail money?"<p>

House walked into his bedroom and pushed the door closed. "Please don't come find me," he half whined into the phone. "You've been harassing me non-stop for years to get a girlfriend. Then, when I see the girl I want, you spend your time cock-blocking me."

"So she admits that she's interested?"

"Apparently"

"And you can admit you are?"

"Yes"

"So why are you talking to me?"

"Wilson showed up"

"That's great!"

"It is not great. I just want everyone to go away…except her…she can stay"

"Can you handle this?"

"I think so"

"You do realize…that it's been so long since you've been near a woman that you'll probably have the self-control of a fourteen-year-old"

"Thanks. Thank you for adding that to my list of concerns. I don't have enough to think about…"

"Be careful. You are doomed to repeat history if you approach this with the mindset that you have to protect yourself and I know your instinct is to do just that. Her instinct is going to be to do the same...to try to make sure she doesn't get hurt. No matter what she says, she's still been through a lot."

"You can't make up your damn mind. One minute you're pushing me to mindlessly screw her brains out, the next you're trying to convince me to be this considerate, loving pseudo-male."

"Those things aren't mutually exclusive…I _do _want you to screw her brains out _and_ be the considerate man that I think you want to be...with her anyway. She makes you...want to be a good man...do you realize how significant that is?"

"I'll never be perfect boyfriend material"

"No. You won't. But you want to try to be _good_ boyfriend material if it means you can have her."

He sighed deeply but couldn't seem to deny what she was saying, at least in that moment.

"Oh one more thing…if you guys actually get to have sex at some point this year...don't be surprised if she has a different emotional reaction than what you're expecting."

"Emotional reaction?"

"Yea…you've been a distraction...a challenge... and...sex with someone you care about is an emotional event anyway, particularly in a case like yours where there is so much history. She may have another...wave of emotion stemming from all of those feelings she probably still has bottled up regarding her daughter. She may not, but don't be surprised if it happens...and don't take it personally if it does."

"Sex with me _has_ been known to lead to bouts of depression"

"That's not what I said"

"I know"

* * *

><p>When House returned, Wilson and Ann were heading to bed. "Want me to stay up with you?" Wilson asked House through a yawn.<p>

"No…I'm tired"

"You are?"

"Yes, it's been a long day, my long lost love returned and he's cross with me, it's so stressful"

"G'night House," Wilson said, waving as he walked into his room.

House motioned Cuddy to follow him out to the porch.

"Can I come up to your room in a few minutes?"

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded seductively.

"I just…once I am in your room…my brain's gonna shut down"

"I hope so"

He chuckled, "We…are really bad at relationships, as individuals...together…" he breathed out a sigh, "The sex…we were always good at the sex, it's all of the stuff in between the naked parts we had trouble with."

"I know"

"I want to try to keep this...thing we've been trying. No lies, talking instead of manipulating…we're both going to have to try to figure out how to be in a relationship…because…we don't have a lot of experience."

"You've really thought about this."

"I have, and if any part of you feels like this is a bad idea, I need you to tell me now, because the only thing worse than not having you…is having you and losing you again"

"I understand. I don't take this lightly."

"I'm incapable of doing this half way. Either I'm in it, or I'm cautious and guarded. When I'm cautious and guarded…well…we've already tried it with me cautious and guarded."

"I was guarded too. I…think you're right…that doesn't work for us."

He nodded, "We're both…a little crazy. I think we both…umm…we care a lot about each other, but we need to see if we can figure out how to do this like grown-ups."

"Yes," she nodded, looking up at him sweetly. "You don't have to come up tonight."

"Rescinding your offer?"

"No"

"Good. I want to come up…I just wanted to talk to you while my vocabulary consists of more than ten words. Let me wait until I hear Wilson's cute little snore and I'll be up," he smirked at her.

They stepped back from each other abruptly when Wilson walked out into the kitchen to get a drink.

"Night House," Cuddy said with a playful grin. She walked in, gave Wilson a hug, and went up to her room.

"I thought you were tired," Wilson said to House.

"Going to bed now. I was waiting to get my good night hug from you."

"Ooo, fresh out of good night hugs…I do have the complimentary 'good night kick in the balls' if you're interested?"

"Tempting, but I think I'll pass," House smiled, pleased that his friend seemed to be warming to him.

House sat in his room listening to the water running as Cuddy took a shower. When her water finally shut off, he snuck out of his room and went upstairs. He went into Cuddy's room and sat on the bed, waiting while she finished up. She walked out of the bathroom in a tank top and panties and he was relatively certain she could hear him exhale. She stood next to him, leaned down to gently kiss him, and winced a bit. "Look, my timing is bad, and, of all the things we discussed, we probably should have discussed this earlier…do…we need a condom?"

"I'm clean… but it's no problem if you want me to…you?"

"I'm…fine...and I'm on the pill, but whatever makes you feel more comfortable…"

"More comfortable?" he asked, "well I'm pretty sure I know what the more comfortable option would be…"

She smacked his arm, "Fine…whatever makes you feel safer."

He sat forward, put his hands on her hips and let his eyes wash over her, "You have got to be the sexiest woman I have ever seen, still…astounds me."

She shook her head and he smirked at her obvious embarrassment at his compliment. She pulled his shirt off of him, and sat down facing him on the bed and suddenly looked down. "What?" he inquired.

"I dunno...you…make me nervous."

"Me? You been trying to have sex with me on virtually every surface you can find…and now that we have a bed, you are nervous?"

"It's easier if it's more spontaneous…if I don't have to think about it."

"Gonna try to not be insulted by that," he chuckled while leaning in to kiss her neck.

"You know what I mean. Now we're here…and you are looking at me..."

His hand slid from her shoulder and slowly up her neck to hold her head closer to him. "You want to do this without me looking at you?…Don't think that works for me."

"No…I …ah…" she started getting lost in his methodical touches. His one hand held her waist firmly, the thumb rubbing along her shirt, the other moving slowly, tickling along her neck and jaw. He moved with nearly infuriating slowness, but the sensations were incredible. She pressed herself closer to him, the soft fabric of her shirt rubbing along his torso. Both of his hands moved to the hem of her shirt as he tugged it up her body and over her head, his fingertips playing gently along the skin. He held her face in his hands and kissed her with undeniable hunger. While she found his calmness beyond comprehension, he knew it was the only way he could do this. Without carefully regulating his every move this would be over far too quickly for his liking. He'd waited years for this, and in order to combat the the raw emptiness that plagued most of his life, but particularly the last few years, he needed to savor each moment.

He pushed her back gently so she was lying flat and he moved down next to her, studying her figure. She lifted slightly so he could remove her lacy panties and she felt completely exposed. He saw her blush before she flung one arm over her face to hide her eyes. His hands traced her breast and nipple and he could actually see her pulse quicken. Her other hand pulled his face closer to her, wordlessly begging for more. When his mouth made contact with her nipple he could feel her moan reverberate through her ribs, her hand tightly grasping at his neck. His fingers played the ridges of her ribs, the fingertips barely making contact with the skin of her stomach and eliciting another shiver. He glanced up at her face, disappointed that he couldn't see the look in her eyes. He moved the arm that was covering her face by grabbing her hand and placing it on his shoulder, "I want to see that too," he whispered, smiling sweetly at her.

She rolled her eyes as he smiled at her, moving over her, settling his stomach between her legs. "Two choices, get used to it or find a way to be much less attractive"

She giggled, "You are insane."

"I know"

He kissed from her breast along the edge of her ribs and down her stomach maintaining the maddening pace, moving slowly down until his face was above her heat. He was barely moving. "Please…" she whispered.

"I'm waiting to see if something interrupts us"

She turned her head turned toward the door, "Did you lock it?" she asked, her head lifting from the bed, eyes wide.

"Yup," he said, smirking before he lowered his tongue down to finally taste her. She grabbed the back of his head urging him on, trying to ensure that he wouldn't be pulling away from her without her permission. He was lost in the taste and feel of her, dipping his tongue into her to fully taste her and then running it in long wide strokes up to her clit, each time surrounding it with his lips before beginning again. When she started grasping the sheets in her free hand, tilting her head back, he knew she needed release. He focused on her clit, increasing the pace and pressure of his attentions. She began to gasp more loudly and he reached up, laying one finger across her lips in a shushing gesture to remind her they needed to keep silent. The extent of her arousal, evidence of her desire for him, made him want her more desperately than he had even moments earlier. She lifted her head to look at him again, amazed that they were here together, again and looking for confirmation that she didn't imagine the entire encounter. His eyes opened and he was watching her, their gaze locking across the span of her body. Her back arched as her orgasm overtook all of her senses and he slipped his hands to the small of her back to hold her close. He remembered with perfect clarity the speed and pressure to apply that would allow her to experience a long sustained decline from her peak until her body finally collapsed, completely devoid of tension.

He moved his head to her hip, one hand still under her back, and moved the other hand to her stomach to follow the slowing rise-and-fall of her breath. At one point her breath slowed to where he thought she was asleep, and a wave of near-panic gripped him until he felt one of her fingers trace along his cheekbone, down past his lips to his jaw. He looked up at her, greeted by a look of happiness that would have been frightening had it not felt so good.

She directed him upward and then rolled him over. "You have got to be really uncomfortable by now," she said as she helped him pull the remaining clothes from his body.

"No…I'm fine," he said shaking his head 'no' until finally allowing it to move affirmatively, "A little…"

She smiled, running her hands across his shoulders and kissing him deeply. "Thank you, for making me feel so incredible."

She moved her body downward and he grabbed her arms to direct her back up, "I…_really_ just want to be inside you."

"Did you say something?" she teased as she quickly moved down and just barely wrapped her lips around him, swirling her tongue around the tip of his arousal.

"Oh my god," he said far too loudly and she reached a finger up to his lips to silence him much as he had done to her. He tried to gain some control as he searched his mind for anything he could concentrate on besides her and the sensations she was producing. She let go of him for a second to say something and it was just enough time for him to regain his senses and flip her over onto her back again. "I told you what I want...what I need," he nearly growled before hiking her legs up around him and looking deeply into her eyes, pushing into her with deliberate, steady force. She gasped loudly, her fingers moving along his neck and shoulders, overloading his senses. When he was completely inside her, he lifted her just enough to slip one hand under the small of her back, one behind her shoulders, and held her tightly against him, keeping some of his weight on his elbows. He buried his face down into her shoulder and neck and held his breath for a moment. "I thought I'd never get to be here again," he finally whispered into her ear, "with you, like this."

He pulled his head back to look at her but quickly closed his eyes again. She kissed him tenderly with a kiss that spoke more to a depth of feelings than lust and he started to move out of sheer necessity. His hand and forearm under her back put her at a perfect angle, and the sensation of needs being filled so fully, as well as the heavy pressure of him against her had her nearing her peak again after only a few moments. He loved the sensation of her entire body against his, her breasts smashed between them, her face so near he could feel her gasps, soft moans and each breath against his skin. "Oh god…House, hurry, I'm almost there…" she moaned trying to hold back so they'd reach their climax at the same time.

The effect he had on her consumed him and he felt his entire body tense as she tightened around him in powerful pulses, her ankles hooked behind his back and her legs clamped down on him, pulling him into her, and he found he could no longer resist. His climax was completely overwhelming as he bit the inside of his mouth to keep himself from making a sound and collapsed down on top of her heavily, trying to keep himself slightly lifted but finding his arms and legs were largely useless.

"Was it always _that_ good?" he asked still breathing heavily.

"It was always…really amazing…but…that..."

He nudged his face next to hers, nearly falling asleep until he felt her moving around to find covers to drag over them.

"I think you broke a couple of my ribs," he said, laughing tiredly.

"The price to pay for sex with me"

"No problem, I have plenty of more where they came from"

"I'll be right back, I need my phone," she whispered.

His head popped up, "You going to call someone?"

"Group text…wanna announce we did it and they weren't able to stop us"

He chuckled. "I'm setting my alarm. You have to go back down to your room," she said, slipping into bed and settling tightly against him.

"Noooo. I don't want to," he mumbled against her skin.

"You don't have to go now…I'll wake you at 4"

He mumbled his disagreement as he slipped into sleep.

At 4 he heard the alarm on Cuddy's phone, kissed her softly, and wandered downstairs, cursing Wilson for showing up and crashing their party. If not for Wilson, he could still be nestled tightly against her warm body and hopefully waking her for another round in an hour. He trudged into his room and looked down at the pillow, which had piece of paper ripped from the back of an envelope. Scrawled across the paper was the word, "Busted!"

House smiled, took the note upstairs to Cuddy's room, and slipped back into bed, "I told you," she said through the fog of sleep, "you have to go back to your room or we'll get caught."

He handed her the piece of paper. "Wilson left me a love note."

She blinked until she could focus enough to read it. "Oops"

"It was stupid to hide anyway, he's a big boy…and he'll lecture us either way, so…"

"True…"

"So," House continued, "since we're already caught…"

She sighed happily, "you should definitely just stay here with me," she wrapped her arms around him and cuddled close as exhaustion carried them back into sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N**-I may not be able to update tomorrow, but I'll try.

**Disclaime**r-don't own the show/characters

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><p>He woke in the morning surrounded by the feeling of Cuddy wrapped around him. Her face was pressed to his shoulder, leg hooked over him and she was so close her skin brushed against his when she breathed. It was hard to admit just how much he missed <em>this<em> part of being with her. He felt…happy. The feeling was foreign, definitely first thing in the morning, but he actually had a smile on his face at 9am, until he felt her shoulders shaking, and he realized she must be crying. "No…I knew it, I knew this was a bad idea," he said, the smile now gone from his face and disappointment permeating his voice.

"What are you talking about?"

He looked down to see her eyes almost twinkling and her face in a broad grin.

"You're laughing?" he asked.

"Yea…what did you think I was doing?"

"Crying"

"No, definitely not. I can't believe he left you a note!"

"You know how he gets about me and other girls," he said, the smile cautiously returning to his face, "So, you're…feeling OK?"

"Yea, of course, you?" she answered, running her hands up and down his long narrow side.

"I'm fine"

"Wilson's going to be so smug"

"Maybe we should hide in here for another hour or two," he whispered, allowing his hands to wander.

They heard Wilson yell from downstairs, "Can't stay in bed all day, get up! I'm not sitting down here while you guys have sex…again…"

"Maybe we should go play nice with the other kids until they leave tomorrow morning," Cuddy suggested.

"Fine," he said looking down in a pout.

"You can come back tonight…"

* * *

><p>They walked downstairs together, agreeing to take whatever Wilson had to dish out as a team. As they rounded the bottom of the stairs Wilson and Ann were sitting at the breakfast table together. "Ohhhh…look who has to take the walk of shame!" he announced loudly as he folded his newspaper and scowled at the pair.<p>

"Why would we be ashamed?" House asked innocently.

"Oh come on…you are going to deny it? I told you there was something going on between the two of you."

"We were studying"

"Really, studying what?"

"Greek Mythology," Cuddy and House answered in unison, each turning and smiling at each other with amusement.

"Lying simultaneously does not negate the lie."

"We're heading home tomorrow, so I wanted to do some shopping today, Lisa, care to join me? I talked James, he said he'll cook for us this evening," Ann asked.

"Oh I don't know," Cuddy initially responded.

House walked over to where she was standing getting her morning coffee, Wilson and Ann listening to the entire interaction. House said in a faux-whisper, "I'll be busy today. I'm assuming this means I've been chosen to help Wilson be a good little wife. Actually, I'm assuming that I'm supposed to _think_ I'm supposed to help him, when in reality, they want to split us up so they can each properly lecture us…divide and conquer."

"Do you think they know, that we know, what they are trying to do?" Cuddy asked.

"No…they really aren't very intelligent," House said as the two of them turned to look at Wilson and Ann, who both appeared to be unamused by the conversation.

He leaned down, their faces only centimeters apart as they spoke. "Have fun shopping… I seriously doubt my parents will let me have any girls over today anyway."

She nodded, maintaining the eye contact, the real communication between them unspoken and intense. "I'm gonna go, enjoy your day with Wilson, and I'll see you back here later."

Wilson walked up to them, grabbing House's shirtsleeve and pulling him away from Cuddy, "We have to go to the store, and then we have to come back here and get ready"

"You are soooo whipped," House accused as he and Wilson walked toward his car.

"I love my wife. I love doing things that make her happy. We don't all build relationships on trying to find ways to torment our significant others."

When they reached the car, House looked at Wilson with a accusatory expression, "You have a minivan"

"It's an SUV"

"Fine…but, really…it's a minivan"

"It is not"

House pulled his car door shut and asked, "Why are you so convinced that I'm secretly trying to hurt her?"

"Based on nearly everything I've ever seen you do. Based on our friendship. Based on my observations of your actual, albeit short-lived relationship. Based on your post-relationship. People don't change…right House?"

"Change…no, they don't. But you can try to lessen some of your more troublesome attributes…enhance your better qualities. You can also quit using drugs and spiraling out of control."

"Has she spoken to you?"

"We have actually exchanged words, yes"

"So you know what happened…this last year."

"I know about Rachel…"

"Does she say anything? Anything other than the facts?"

"Yes"

"What has she said?"

"That I should be wary of meddlers"

"Quit being an ass. We've been trying to get through to her since it happened, but none of us know what's going on, since I'm guessing you'll be back to your old life in a few days, distracted by whatever insanity you now subscribe to, I'd like to have an idea of what's going on, so I can pick up the pieces…again!"

House paused to stare out the window, a look of concern on his face.

"And…here he is again. I knew you were in there. We need to talk about this and you're shutting down. I'm concerned about her and her feelings. _You're_ concerned with grabbing her ass"

"Yea, I'm a real dick"

"Well, who takes advantage of a grieving mother?"

"You must be right"

"Are you going to tell me what she said?"

"No. She trusted me, if she wanted you to know, she'd tell you."

"You're using this as a bargaining chip?"

"Nope"

They walked through the grocery store with barely a word. When they got back in the car Wilson sat drumming the steering wheel with one hand. "I…shouldn't have assumed the worst. I'm honestly worried about her, and I don't want her to get hurt...again."

House thought silently for a few more moments, "I'm not going to delve into specifics, but…I'm pretty sure she would tell you that I didn't take advantage of her. I…actually like her…and hurting her is the exact opposite of what I'm trying to achieve."

"OK…then, where are you living now?"

"Outside of Philly"

"And you have…a job near there I'm assuming"

"What's your point?"

"So what happens in a few days, when she goes back to Baltimore?"

"Didn't get that far yet"

"Are you planning on ever getting that far?"

"What do you want from me?"

"I guess…I want to know that she's going to be OK"

"I can't answer that for you because I don't know. I think so. I _can_ tell you I'm making an effort not to personally hurt her"

They returned from shopping and went back into the house. Cuddy and Ann had already left.

Wilson started to prep dinner as House sat on the counter talking to him. Wilson spoke about he and Ann met, the beginnings of their relationship and House agreed with Cuddy's assessment that his new wife seemed very good for him.

Wilson later asked, "Cuddy told you she was seeing someone?"

"She said she was a while ago. Why is she still…"

"No…she isn't. Not at all. He…worshiped her. Honestly, I think the guy would have done anything she asked. He was devastated when she ended it. The funny thing was…she was never really even in that relationship. He'd come up and put an arm around her, and…she move… She wouldn't let him stay at her house, from what he told me ever…not a single time. She said it was because of Rachel, but, some nights, Rachel wasn't even home."

"You want me to be disappointed that she didn't like him? I can pretty much guarantee that Cuddy _not_ liking another guy will always be OK with me"

"You two are never able to get over each other, no matter what happens. She never gave him a chance because…he wasn't you. Have you been seeing anyone since you two split"

"No"

"No one?"

"I didn't save any numbers"

"See, and it will always be like that, because you two will never get over each other. No matter what you do, or where you go, neither of you will ever find someone else."

"I thought you were officially anti-Cuddy-n-me?"

"I am, if…you're going to screw it up. I'll have to talk to her about her not screwing up her part after she gets back"

House scoffed, "Yea, _her_ screwing it up…"

"I'm serious. She's as complicated as you are. She's made of the same tactics of evasion and avoidance…she just employs those tactics more politely. If there's any chance, at all, that you guys can make it work, you'll both have to be invested. I…can't for the life of me think of what other options either of you have"

"I know"

"I've been waiting for this day, but I always figured, she'd open the door, and you'd be standing there. She went and found you?"

"Yea, she told me what was going on, and…asked me to…hang out for a while"

"So why'd you do it? The particular angle of her neckline, a pair of jeans that suited her particularly well?"

A cold smirk crossed House's face that stilled Wilson in his tracks. Wilson held his hands up, "OK, OK"

"I don't know why I agreed to come with her. You desperately want me to list some shallow reason…I don't have one. I liked being around her…she…did a lot for me. My life…the last few years…isn't bad. It's just…empty"

"Your life has been empty for a very long time"

"Not like that. I met women at work, my roomie has tried to set me up, I've been uninterested, the few women I've actually gone out with, or at least had sex with, bore me…I figured it was the result of old age, brain damage, drug use…and…I was actually OK with that. Then, one Saturday night, she's there at the bar where I work, sitting at a table, assuming that I don't see her…this…womanizing moron walks over to her…"

"What did you to him?"

House shook his head with disbelief, "Nothing…I walked over and sat behind her, granted, somewhat possessively, and he scurried off. I expected that she finally came to tell me just how much she hated me. I wanted that friction…just to feel real again. I pinned her chair in…so she'd be stuck…because …I wanted to annoy her, I was trying to piss her off the moment I was near her…just to get a reaction…then…the reaction wasn't there…so I knew something was really wrong. I…wanted the demanding, bossy, stubborn woman to return. I've never seen her that…destroyed."

"So you wanted to fix her…it was a problem to solve"

"That's what it should have been. That's what I would have told you it was a few years ago"

"So then what was it…really?"

"I…didn't want her to be sad anymore. Made me realize how much of the sad in her life was me-related…which made me think of how much of her life was sad…which…made me feel a little less than wonderful about certain things."

Wilson held up the spatula he was using and pointed it at House, "Don't fuck this up. I _want _to think this can be…not bad…you guys have burned me before."

House nodded slipped off the counter to go to the bathroom. Once inside he leaned against the sink and pulled his phone from his pocket. He remembered Cuddy put her phone number in there the morning he was in the hot tub and smiled as he searched for her number. She had put herself in his contacts, simply as 'Cuddy' and he wrote her a text:

_"What are you wearing?"_

Cuddy pulled her phone from her purse when she heard it beep and looked down to see the message was from an unknown number. As soon as she read the message the sender was obvious. She responded: _"Normal shopping outfit-leather corset and garters"_

House read the message with a grin: _"I like a woman who keeps it simple"_

She responded: _"What are you wearing?"_

_"Bunny suit. Like the tail?"_

Ann turned abruptly to Cuddy who was smiling widely at phone. Cuddy responded: _"So sexy. How's Wilson"_

_"He's a meddling meddler"_

_"Her too. Be back soon"_

Cuddy saved his number, smiling at the familiarity of seeing his name there. "OK, what's going on?" Ann said, clearly irritated.

"Nothing"

Ann handed her some bags to carry as they walked toward the car. "What did he say to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Lisa…do you even realize how you've been the last few months?"

"My daughter was killed…kinda think I'm allowed to be a little down after that," Cuddy responded with apparent irritation.

"Of course…of course you are. But you were still like that last Friday, and today, you aren't."

"That's why you guys set me up on this vacation, right? So I could feel better?"

"Of course, but, I guess I'm implying that he may have said or done something to help..."

Cuddy grew quiet.

"Lisa, it's not just these last few months. I've known you for two years. You have _never _giggled. Not a single time. That little scene in the kitchen this morning…you were never like that with Matthew. Hell, I don't know if _I've_ ever been like that with anyone. You were talking about something completely mundane and the tension was almost unbearable. I…felt like I shouldn't be watching."

Ann added, "You know, the night I met you, on the car ride home, James was talking about you…and…House…and he said that sometimes the fights the two of you had were so intense and fiery that he couldn't tell if you were going to fuck right there on your desk or strangle each other to death on the spot…"

Cuddy turned to her, remembering some of those moments over the years when she wondered the same thing. "Lisa...Intense and fiery…can be very, very good…or it can be very, very bad..."

* * *

><p>Ann walked into the kitchen of the beach home to find Wilson busily working as House sampled the food. "Where's Cuddy?" House asked, looking around suspiciously.<p>

"She's unloading the car"

"You…didn't bring up any bags. What's she unloading?"

"I'm pregnant"

"Congratulations"

"She's saying she shouldn't be carrying too much," Wilson chimed in.

"I don't think they recommend abstinence from all physical labor…carrying a few shopping bags up a flight of stairs you are already walking up anyway seems relatively safe," House argued, irritated and concerned that Ann seemed unaware, and Wilson insensitive, to Cuddy's feelings.

Wilson shot him a scowl and he surrendered the argument. "Might as well send the cripple to help her," he added, limping toward the stairs.

"James can help her later, I'm sure she's fine," Ann offered as House brushed past her.

House mumbled as he went down the stairs. Cuddy was calmly moving bags from her car to Wilson and Ann's. "Hey," House said leaning against the door frame.

"Hey," Cuddy said, her eyes displaying how happy she was to see him.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, Ann asked me to carry in her bags…I started too, but I figured, if they're leaving tomorrow, why carry everything up there, and then make Wilson bring it all down tomorrow."

House nodded, walking over and leaning on the rear bumper of Wilson's car. "She having quintuplets?" he asked, pointing at the multitude of bags filled with baby items.

Cuddy smiled, "She's just excited."

She looked at House's irritated expression and walked over to him, standing directly in front of him, "Stop. Thinking. I'm fine," she said with a broad forced smile which she was unable to hold. She sat next to him and leaned into his side, moving her head on his shoulder.

For a moment he froze, his instincts suggesting this was the time to guard himself, part of him rallying against the thought of having to play a role so close to that of the supportive boyfriend. This was one of those moments where he was ill-equipped, one of the times between sexual encounters that sometimes seemed so complicated for them.

Acknowledging her now, like this, meant acknowledging needs that were blatantly platonic, something that seemed so much more complicated now that they wanted to try to redevelop something between them. He reached one arm up and draped it over her shoulders. Once he had committed to a show of compassion and support that was entirely genuine, he was shocked by what he learned. It wasn't acknowledgment of her needs that was frightening, it wasn't even the subtle show of humanity that displayed weaknesses in his guard, it was the way he felt her emotion all through him. Empathy was, in so many ways, the emotion he feared the most. Experiencing her pain was so much worse than feeling his own. She wasn't crying or even sniffling, she just needed his presence.

He stroked her arm with his thumb, and held her to him loosely. "I don't know why I didn't realize this sooner," she said.

"Realize what?" he asked.

"She was talking about her due date and I started counting…I was just curious…"

House nodded, realizing the disclosure that was likely to follow.

"Their son must have been conceived within days of when Rachel died…I…don't even know why it matters…"

"It's...another reminder…of how they've gained something that you've lost…"

* * *

><p>"They've been gone awhile," Wilson said to Ann. "I'm gonna go check on them."<p>

Wilson muttered as he went down the stairs, convinced he'd discover some act of debauchery which would just be further evidence that their relationship was about tension and physical attraction and likely unable to stand the test of reality any more than it had in the past. He looked toward his car and watched the interaction between his two friends.

To anyone else, there wouldn't have been anything particularly sweet or kind about the scene, in fact, it may have appeared somewhat impersonal. To Wilson, who knew the two participants so well, it was staggering. Not only did Cuddy allow herself to appear vulnerable, but she took that vulnerability to him in search of comfort. Most shocking was the fact that House didn't run from her need, he appeared to be truly present in the moment, without a hint of irritation or discomfort at the exchange. Wilson smiled softly at the scene and returned to his wife.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N**-Leave a review at the end if you're so inclined, i love to read them! JessicaClackum thanks for the words of advice, sympathetic ear and for the completely inspiring story you are working on! Double thanks to everyone who has reviewed at some point. Some of you review every chapter, or at least regularly, thank you so much for your time and thoughts

**Disclaimer**- i don't own the characters of House, MD. Season 8 is ignored because it makes me feel yucky.

**Disclaimer 2-**this chapter contains adult content

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><p>House and Cuddy ventured upstairs after the bags were safely put away in the car to find Wilson and Ann. Ann was napping, Wilson sitting on the sofa reading. Cuddy walked over to Wilson, took his book, and grabbed him by the hand to lead him from the room. "I didn't know you were handing out free samples to just <em>anyone<em>," House shouted, flopping down on the sofa and turning on the TV. Cuddy took Wilson out onto the porch, sat in a rocker, folded her hands in her lap and said, "Go ahead, I'm ready."

"For…"

"You already lectured House, I'm pretty certain you couldn't spend four hours with him without lecturing him on something. So…I'm assuming it's my turn, let's do this, so we can get it done, and then enjoy dinner."

"I don't have anything to say"

She cast a skeptical look at him and said, "Did House _threaten_ you with…some sort of prank war…or…"

"No," Wilson responded matter-of-factly. "You look …better than you did, so, that's good. Beyond that, what can I say that you haven't already considered?"

"I am so confused"

"I…think you have a lot to figure out. I think it's going to be hard, under the best of circumstances. Something's different though, maybe…it'll work. Or, at least if it doesn't, maybe you won't destroy each other…maybe…you can put some of this chaos behind you and at least move on without all of the baggage. I don't know. Any of those options is better than where either of you were before."

Wilson smiled, "Let's head back in before he dips into my cigar stash again, part of me…always knew he'd show up and help himself."

Cuddy laughed and went into the room with him. House lifted his head without removing his gaze from the TV, "That didn't take long...at least I know Wilson's no competition."

Wilson sat on the chair nearby and opened his mouth to retort when House's phone rang and he stuck a finger up to silence Wilson, "Gregory House, love god, how may I help you?"

"Bad time?" Kate asked.

"Oh god…I'm at the cross-roads between meddle and nag in the land of eternal compassion. The only thing that occupies more of my nightmares than this scenario, is the two of you, in the flesh, actually standing before me trying to dictate my future and sooth my broken soul."

"Does that mean Wilson's there?"

"Yea"

"Which one am I, 'meddle' or 'nag'?"

"You'll always be 'nag' to me"

"How's Lisa?"

"Doing OK"

"Did you guys get to have sex, or did Wilson sleep between you all night?"

House squinted one eye, thinking, "Trials began without a hitch"

"Oh cool, we're speaking in code…does that mean she's there too?" Kate asked as Cuddy sat down beside him.

"Definitely"

"How was it?"

"Although expectations were high, results were better than expected"

Cuddy stared at the TV, "Tell Kate I thought it was great too"

House smirked at her and pretended to cover the phone, "this is work related woman, it's not all about you!"

Cuddy raised an eyebrow in response, her gaze still focused on the TV.

"So she's doing OK, she didn't lock down or get…distant?" Kate asked

"Nope"

"Good, that's fantastic. How long's Wilson there for?"

"Until tomorrow"

"When do you come back here?"

"Not exactly sure yet, not due back at work for a while"

"OK. So…you guys going to try the long distance thing for a bit?"

"Don't know"

"It's not _that_ long of a drive, so don't go getting all mopey."

"I'm not mopey...this is why you are nag…and he is meddle...wait, actually, right now, you are doing your best to cover both, I'm sure Wilson appreciates the backup."

"Get her to stay here a few days when you get back…maybe she'll like it here."

"Maybe…doubtful…"

"I have a date…with indie band girl..."

"Stay out of my room"

"Yea, because nothing's hotter than writhing around in a grouchy old man's bed"

"Eh, if you put it that way, feel free"

She laughed, "Night House…I honestly miss your curmudgeon ass"

"Night"

"What's the clinical trial for?" Cuddy asked, smirking.

"Sort of a, pain-reliever-fountain-of-youth combo kinda thing…I can show you," he smirked as Cuddy moved closer.

"Stop!" Wilson yelled, "I'm waking up my wife, and we're going to have dinner before you two completely destroy my appetite. "God!"

"What did he say…the lecture?" House whispered.

"It…wasn't a lecture…he thinks we…might be OK"

"Huh?"

"I know"

"Unexpected"

* * *

><p>They ate a pleasant dinner, Wilson was a masterful chef and conversation was pleasant enough, free from the doubtful overtones, advice and warnings of earlier in the day. Wilson and Ann were throwing darts as Cuddy stood behind the bar, leaning her elbows on the surface and watching them. House came around behind the bar, and leaned next to her, arms folded across his chest, elbows on the top of the bar. "You look good behind a bar…I know some people…if you ever need a new job, perfect place for low cut tops."<p>

"Maybe the low cut tops would get me an extra buck or two a night. I might try it."

"I think you'd make an extra fifty off of Kate and I alone…and we work there. I think you'd do even better with the people who are actually supposed to tip you."

"Wait, you work at a bar? The world famous doctor…works at a bar?" Ann asked, stopping in the middle of her turn to look at him.

"Side job…drunks need the finest medical minds too"

Ann started to discuss one of the projects in which her company was currently invested while they played. Cuddy absently watched the game, when she felt something along her side: House's fingers, obscured by his crossed arms were tracing along her waist. He shifted his whole body lower, still leaning against the bar, his fingers pulling up the hem of her shirt so they could move along bare skin. His fingers skimmed across the center of her stomach, moving in unpredictably circuitous patterns up to her bra. He played against the lace for a while, wishing he could think of a way to remove the garment entirely without being noticed. Cuddy crossed her arms higher, softly clearing her throat and looking at him just as his fingers grazed the peak of her nipple. She breathed more deeply, trying not to draw attention. The corners of his mouth curled almost imperceptibly as he continued to look forward, his actions unnoticeable to anyone else.

"Don't you think, House?" Ann asked.

"Absolutely," he said without missing a beat.

"You…agree with that?" Wilson asked.

"Yea of course. Why don't you?" he asked, turning the conversation back to the two of them.

His fingers didn't miss a moment of contact, and continued their arousing exploration of her body. She loved this about him. He could be so completely unflappable, and so unapologetically sexual. No one ever made her feel as enticing as he did. He always seemed to exercise the utmost patience in the moments they were alone, capable of self-control he seemed to lack in almost every other aspect of his life, but she was an expert in the kind of slow, teasing torment that could last all day, or decades.

He moved his fingers down her abdomen to the waistband of her shorts, and tried to pop the button open, but couldn't quite reach. "So, how did you end up working at the bar?" Wilson asked.

"Umm…I worked with Kate at Penn…it's her place" he explained, as he tried to slip his hand into her shorts without success. She was moving subtly, just enough to stay out of his reach.

"What do you do there exactly?" Ann asked.

His mind was torn between the discussion people were trying to have with him and the challenge of getting into Cuddy's shorts while she tried to evade his advances. He answered, sounding much more frustrated than he intended, "It's complicated, I take drinks, extract them from cold places, or sometimes from bottles, and follow the necessary steps to deliver them to people's waiting hands.

Just as the words left his mouth Cuddy's hand moved to the front of his jeans and blatantly groped him. He sighed loudly and his left knee, which had been baring most of his weight buckled, his arms just barely catching his weight.

"Are you OK?" Ann practically shouted, "What the hell happened?"

"Just a muscle cramp, I'm fine!"

He pulled himself onto the top of the bar and started rubbing his thigh to continue the illusion. Cuddy stood right in front of him, "Are you sure you're OK?" she asked, her tone full of sweetness and concern, but her gaze competitive and teasing.

"I'm fine, really," he answered, his gaze intimidating.

He slid down from the bar, directly in front of her and whispered, "Game on"

Wilson and Ann wrapped up their game of darts, Wilson grabbed a cigar and offered one to House, the two friends moving out onto the patio. "It's been good seeing you House, I'd…like to see you again," Wilson said as he sat down on the rocker.

"Phew…I'd like too, but I just started this thing with some girl…of course if we could keep it quiet…"

"Shut up, you are such a complete ass"

House smiled at his friend's reaction, their interactions becoming more comfortable, "It's good to see you too Wilson…you…wanna come down to the bar in a few weeks. I work Saturday, live music, usually half decent…you can bring the ball and chain."

Wilson chuckled, "I'll come down. Thanks House. Will Cuddy be there?"

House's face was indescribable as he answered somberly, "I don't know…I didn't talk to her about it yet"

"Are you going to?"

"I'm not sure what's she's thinking, what she wants. I mean…I know she thinks there's something, but…I don't know what it means practically."

"I'm…almost begging you…don't fuck this up. For both of your sakes…I'd love to one day see you…not miserable…on a regular basis. Right now…you aren't miserable."

House saw Ann walking around the room inside by herself, dropped his cigar in the ashtray, and hurried past Wilson, "Be back!"

He scanned the open third floor room, barely acknowledging Ann as he went to the stairs. When he rounded the bottom of the staircase he saw Cuddy holding her phone in her hand in front of the refrigerator. She opened the door, grabbed a bottle of water and leaned her elbow against the counter, oblivious to his presence behind her. The carpet masked his footfalls and he was able to walk one long step across the tile of the kitchen area and was standing directly behind her as he peered down at the words on her screen: _"Even you know I won that round"_.

"Oh I dunno…" he whispered, pulling her by the hips flush against him.

She gasped loudly, trying to turn around to hit him, reacting to his stealthy approach, but unable to wriggle free. "You scared me, you ass," she said, laughing somewhat nervously, her heart still racing.

"I can't believe you did that…"

"I succeeded in doing what you were only trying to do"

"You just took me off guard," he argued.

She pressed her ass back against him, cuing a throaty groan. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Winning round two," she said, moving one hand behind her to hold his neck, tickling him with her short fingernails.

Her other hand went to his hip, holding him still while she rhythmically pressed back against him. "Let's go to bed," he mumbled gruffly against her neck.

"We can't…not yet. Wilson's leaving tomorrow I think he missed you"

"Let's not mention the 'W' word when you're grinding against me like that"

She giggled seductively leaning her head back against his chest as he moved one hand low on her stomach and the other cupped her breast. "I never forgot the way you feel," he whispered softly, almost as if he never intended to be heard.

She turned around in his arms and leaned up to kiss him, trying to burn the sensation of him into her brain.

"They're gonna come find us soon…" she said as she pulled back.

"You're kidding…" he replied, lifting her up onto the counter and trying to sway her with a deep kiss, pulling her against him so she could feel how aroused her actions made him. "Let's have a celebratory reunion quickie."

"You've always talked a lot about quickies. How often are they quick? By definition they shouldn't take an hour or two…you get preoccupied. How many actual quickies have we had?"

"Plenty"

"OK, how many quickies have we had that weren't followed by more sex?"

"There were some"

"Not many, and once we get started you know you can convince me of almost anything…"

"Lisa, can you bring me up some water," Ann shouted down the stairs.

"Sure," Cuddy replied, her voice shaky.

"I don't like that woman," House mumbled.

Cuddy ran the bottle of water up, House followed moments later. The four decided on a movie. Cuddy sat in the corner of the sofa and House settled next to her. She figured he was going to try to continue their game of foreplay. As the movie began House leaned over, "Can't wait until they're gone."

He rubbed her forearm, his fingers close to her breast but never touching it. He calmly caressed her arm, even her thigh, evading any sort of touch that was overtly sexual. Half way through the movie Wilson and Ann decided to go to bed since they had to leave early in the morning. After they retired, Cuddy whispered, "I am so entirely turned on right now."

"I need to find out what happens first," he said pointing toward the TV, unable to suppress a snicker when her mouth opened in protest.

He grabbed her hand and stood, pulling her over to her room. She closed the door and whispered, "How am I supposed to be near you without touching you?"

"I…am not asking you to make that sacrifice," he teased.

They removed each other's clothes frantically, the evening's buildup leaving them desperate for release. "I still can't believe you let me feel you up behind the bar."

"I can't help that you turn me on. You think I didn't notice how hard you were, when you were pressed up against my ass?" she taunted, pushing him back onto the bed. She straddled him, holding his arousal in her small hands and dragging her fingers to the tip of him with feather-light touches. "Almost as hard as you are now."

He tilted his head back, enjoying her attentions and trying to remain calm. She took his hand and moved it toward her core, "I want you to feel how much you turn me on before I fuck you."

He moved his fingers so he could make contact, immediately sensing both the incredible heat and the wetness that covered her. She smirked as he grew more aroused.

She shoved his hand out of the way and scooted up, dropping her small body down onto his, and almost folding around him at the exquisite sensation of penetration. He looked down to see the place where they were joined and the sight of the two of them engaged in this act was quite possibly the most amazing thing he had ever seen. He felt every part of her that he could reach, watching the way her breasts bounced enticingly above him, the long curve of her neck, her sounds, motions and appearances defined 'feminine' for him. She was the epitome, in every way, of what a woman should be.

Her movements above him became wilder, as he tried to calm his brain, convinced that if he could outlast her orgasm, he could easily have her writhing against him again a few minutes later. He was succeeding in his detachment until she leaned forward, lips grazing his, and said, "no one has ever made me feel the way you do...you...are..." She was unable to finish her thought as she came, quivering and pulsating all around him, her words, as much as her actions spurring him to his own orgasm, regardless of his own often masterful self-control.

She dropped against him, her own muscle control virtually nonexistent, but with him still inside her, unwilling to relinquish the physical bond. His fingers stroked her back sweetly but he said nothing. Her voice broke the silence, "You know I'm just as scared of losing you as you are of losing me, and I'm just as scared of getting hurt…"

"I know."

They made love again a short while later, eventually falling deeply into sleep until House woke just before dawn.

* * *

><p>Wilson emerged from his room, finding House watching TV. "You OK?"<p>

"Yea"

"Cuddy OK?"

"Yea"

"OK, you want to tell me…"

"I have no idea what I'm doing," House interrupted. "I don't know what she expects me to do, or what she wants to do. Maybe…she's more messed up than I thought and my being here is just a sign of that."

Wilson sat down, resting his elbows on his knees. "Don't make any quick decisions"

"I don't want to fuck it up. I just don't know what I'm not fucking up. I don't know what the goal is, what am I working toward, or if I'm not working toward anything at all."

"The biggest mistake you two repeatedly make, is assuming that you know the other one so well that you think you can read each other infallibly, then you don't talk about anything. You don't allow each other a chance to explain, or clarify. All of the other problems stem from there. As far as I'm concerned…that's the only way you'd really fuck it up."

House nodded his agreement. Wilson said, "Go see who she is, visit her home, learn about her life. Invite her to see yours, show her who you are. It's been years, things...have changed. See if you're willing to open up your lives to each other. Vacation...is not reality. Take reality for a test drive."

Wilson and Ann left shortly after their conversation. House fell asleep in front of the flickering TV.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N-**In my original plan for this story, this was going to be the last chapter…but I decided about half way through that I just can't let it go yet. I have a good idea of where I want it to go, and I think plenty of ideas to keep it interesting, so we're gonna keep it going for a bit. Hopefully it remains engaging.

So excited about all of the reviews:)

**Disclaimer-**House, Cuddy and Wilson aren't mine.

* * *

><p>Cuddy woke to an empty bed and felt the onset of concern. Previous experience with House taught her that his bad moods were often unpredictable and the swings occasionally very dramatic, ranging from one extreme to the other, although his behavior during the last week seemed much less volatile than it ever had before. She found him in front of the TV, waking just as she entered the room. "Leg OK?" she asked trying to sound calm.<p>

"Yea, it's fine"

"Wilson gone?"

"Ann had a meeting this evening. They left really early"

"OK," she said, trying to force a smile. "Are we OK House?"

He looked at her, his gaze steady and blank, "I hope this isn't a mistake. When we leave here in a few days, what's going to happen?"

She sighed rubbing the back of her neck, "I…don't know. I take you back to your place…"

"And then?"

"This…hasn't gone the way I expected"

"Me neither. I was sort of expecting more 'angry Cuddy'…less 'naked Cuddy'."

"I honestly didn't come find you so I could use you…believe me, sex was the absolute last thing on my mind at that point"

"I know. Let's forget about the big picture and just discuss this logistically…in the next few weeks, what's our strategy. Will you, come by and see me on the weekends? Am I allowed to come up and visit?"

She steadied herself, trying to keep emotion at bay. "I would like to come see you, and…yea, I would like it if you could come over and see me. I don't…want to leave here and have that be…it. "

"If Rachel hadn't…" he sighed deeply, searching for the words, "if Rachel were still here would you have come to find me?"

Cuddy thought for a moment, giving the question the consideration it deserved.

"I mean," he continued, "let's say …you and Rachel were at the store last year, and Dorman called and told you he saw me. Would you have come to find me. No lies."

"No. I wouldn't have"

He nodded, "You wouldn't have because of Rachel? Or you wouldn't have because of you?"

"Both"

"I…don't want to benefit because of her death. I don't want you to think somewhere in your mind that I'm only with you because…you don't have her anymore. Somewhere in all that is grounds for resentment of an unbelievable magnitude."

"I don't think that…I couldn't think that. I avoided you to protect myself, and her, from pain. When I made the decision to come see you, it wasn't because I thought you and I would do better because I wasn't a mother anymore. It was because I was so hurt by losing her that…I no longer cared if I got hurt by you. Physically...I told you…I didn't think you'd hurt me physically. If that makes me an idiot…fine. But emotionally… Yea, I think…part of me, almost wanted you to hurt me. I wanted you to make me feel something other than the loss of her. I wanted someone to call me out, to make me react."

She thought carefully before continuing, "I didn't expect that you had become a better man. I didn't expect that in your own sometimes quiet, sometimes over-the-top, and…sometimes completely bullying way, you'd help me. I didn't expect to find comfort in having you around. You were…almost omnipresent throughout my life. Even while you were gone. You know, my sister asked, a week or two after Matthew and I broke up, if I had seen 'the ex' at all, and I said, 'no way, I haven't seen him since the accident'…my mind automatically went to you. You were essentially the most relevant male relationship of my adult life. When you left…or I left…however you want to say it, that's…not important… it left a terrible gaping wound in my life. Rachel was still there at the time, so I didn't feel it in the same way. It honestly wasn't until she was gone that I realized how empty I had become…I realized how much was missing from my life without you in it."

He was watching her intently as she continued, "After Rachel died, when Matthew showed up…there wasn't even the most fleeting of moments when I thought that it would be nice to have him by my side to help me through it. I actually thought, only momentarily, about trying to find you…to let you know she was gone. What grieving person would choose you...over someone who would actually want to be supportive? Someone they could count on to do what needed done. I…wanted you with me. I, of course, wrote it off as my own insanity…the reactions of a person in pain…"

"I don't know if any relationship can survive if it's only possible because one of the participant's children died."

"You and I didn't start because she died. I didn't…hear of her death, and go find you. I came to find you because of the grief that remained long after Rachel was gone...that grief wasn't just about her…it was this accumulation of sadness from so many things…many of which I was able to ignore because I was able to focus on her.

"Wilson said that you and I think we know what the other is thinking, and sometimes we're wrong…we…misinterpret each other, and then act like idiots because of it."

"Oh, well that's not…" her vehement denial quickly turned more reflective. "What _do_ you think I'm thinking?"

"I think you might be worrying you made a mistake. That, at this stage in your life maybe you want to find a guy that can actually give you what you want, instead of hour after hour of frustration."

"OK. What is it that you think I want? Who…is this guy that I'm looking for?"

"I don't know! Someone, who can do the whole marriage-family thing, someone probably younger, a bit less…worked over…a bit less pissed off. Someone more professional and less chronically embarrassing"

"You want me to marry Wilson? A bit late for that!" she laughed. "You don't know what I want at all House. I could have had the marriage-family thing…with more than one guy, both of whom were younger than you, and less worked over. I'm not sure about less embarrassing though…"

"So you don't want those things?"

"I…don't want to be alone…no…that's…that's not true. I don't want to be miserable anymore…I'm strangely OK with alone, if I wasn't, I would have married one of the guys who proposed. I think you have already constructed an ending scenario and we've barely gotten started."

"It's what I do"

"You tell me that _I _try to foresee every possible outcome so that I can prevent the bad ones…control the situation... What's funny is, you try to figure out all of the possible outcomes too, but the only one you are interested is the worst possible outcome."

"OK. What do you think I want?" he asked.

"I…think you don't want to be hurt. I think you _want_ to be alone, and that's why you are going to try to sabotage this. The…ideal relationship with me would be one where we would…meet up once or twice a month for sex."

"That's ridiculous," he scoffed with dramatic irritation, "I would want sex with you much more often than once a month"

"God you're an ass," she snickered, "I'm going to get it tattooed on me so I can just point to it instead of repeatedly wasting my breath!"

"Can you please get 'God you're an ass' tattooed on your ass? 'cause _that_ would be hot…and accurate…at the same time"

She shook her head with disbelieved amusement as he gave her an almost irresistible grin.

"Wilson said that we should check out each other's habitats…literally… That it's one thing to have a vacation thing and another to have a regular thing"

"He's right"

"Yea, I was thinking that, right before I was thinking that I hate it when Wilson's right. If we do decide to try the long distance thing…am I…going to show up one day to surprise you and find another guy at your place?"

"If you do it's probably a plumber or an electrician...I'm still completely useless with home repair"

He smiled, "you are going to make me spell it out, aren't you?"

She smirked and rocked her legs expectantly, waiting for him. "You are excruciatingly cruel…you know that right?" he questioned while she remained silent, still waiting expectantly.

"Fine…Cuddy, is this…are we…agreeing to not see other people, or are we agreeing to continue to see other people?"

"I don't want to stifle you," she responded coyly, enjoying making him a bit uncomfortable.

He began to look away, and she could see the discomfort had gone a bit too far, "I'm teasing…" she finally said, "I…was barely willing to talk to another human being a week ago. I'm…certainly not looking for something else. I also don't want to rush you, so if you still feel you want to keep your options open, I'm not going to back you into a corner"

"You are the only person alive that can make the phrase, 'back you into a corner' sound intriguing. I just want to know where we stand, and until we figure it out, it's just you. And Wilson. And Kate. They'll be up my ass no matter what I do…"

"So…where do we go first?"

"When do you have to be back at work?"

"I..." she hesitated taking a deep breath.

"They didn't fire you…"

"No, nothing like that. I'm on leave. I took a few weeks"

"OK…why the pause?"

"It's…embarrassing! The only time I ever really took off was after I got Rachel and some jackass that used to work for me made sure that was short lived"

"It's embarrassing…to take time off of work…yes…" he responded sarcastically. "You have a serious problem!"

"I know"

"I thought you were going to try to slow down, be less 'go-gettery'?"

"I am, which is why I took leave, and subsequently went in search of the one person I knew was most capable of teaching me how to avoid work."

"I really am…exceptionally talented"

"Come to Baltimore. When we leave here."

"You sure you're ready to introduce me to you new entourage…think of the neighbors"

"No time like the present!"

"I…understand you may want to see how things work out before you want to involve the other people in your life…I have burned you before."

"I had my neighbors install guardrails when I moved in"

He stared blankly until she flashed a devious grin and he realized she was joking. "Oh, that's cold...when do we leave here?"

"Friday sometime"

"Could we stop by my place Saturday, because there is a band Saturday night…a good one. That way, Kate can look me over to double check that I washed behind my ears and didn't suddenly relapse, as well as get in a few long leering glances at you. Then, we can go to Baltimore, and I can see the new Cuddy lair."

"Sounds good. What happens if we get there and we decide that this isn't going to work?"

"Jump off that bridge when we come to it…"

"Or…what happens if we get there…and we decide it might actually work?"

"Then, we'll have an actual problem," he smiled, then turned more serious, "if that happens…we'll have a lot to figure out from there."

"OK. It's gorgeous outside today, feel like going down to the beach?"

"Ooh that would be lovely…or…since Wilson's gone, we could just stay here all day and have sex"

"OK" she conceded.

"It's just not the same when you can't make those wild monkey noises…I feel it compromises the integrity of the experience."

* * *

><p>House woke, pleasantly sated from their day indoors until he reached blindly around on the bed to find Cuddy to no avail. When he realized she wasn't in the bathroom or in the house at all, his mind went into overdrive. She wasn't on the patios or in the hot tub but he was relieved to find her car still parked. It was still dark, too early for a run and her sneakers were still by the door. He went back upstairs to retrieve his phone and called her, only to hear her phone ring on the kitchen counter behind him and he wasn't sure if he should be relieved or concerned that she left her phone there.<p>

He walked out onto the porch and saw her sitting on the sand near the water. She looked so small there, dwarfed by the enormous ocean, and she was barely visible from the limited light that began to creep up from the sun. He sighed at the thought of the long walk in the sand from the back door to the place where she was seated, but curiosity and concern dictated that he find out what was on her mind.

He worked his way out to the spot where she was sitting. She didn't seem surprised to see him, and barely acknowledged his presence. He got to the ground with as much grace as he could manage, and sat beside her. Unwilling to interrupt her thoughts, he sat quietly and waited. "I just can't help but wonder…why I didn't do stuff like this with her. All those years I had and…I never brought her here. I talked about the vacations we'd take one day, we planned the things we wanted to do…or at least dreamed about them. I would take her for a week to see family, or take some little day trips…I thought it would be better to wait until she was older. I have the money…I have…plenty of money. Is it stupid to think that maybe she was here to teach me a lesson…to teach me to actually live my life?"

"Yea…it is a little stupid," he smiled, "you can't reduce everything to some experiment that was supposed to teach you a lesson. But…if you chose to learn something from the experience…I guess that's not completely stupid."

They sat wordlessly as the light spread more fully across the sky, although in the dull tones of a hazy day, and listened to the waves. "You…wanted to see the sunrise?" he asked.

"I guess. I woke up and started wondering why I didn't do more with Rachel, and I couldn't think of a single time we ever watched a sunrise. We…had seen sunrises…just something that you notice while you are busy doing something else…but we never really watched them."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You…are not the kind of guy that you wake at 4:30 in the morning to go watch a sunrise," she chuckled.

"And yet…here I am"

"Here you are. I won't deny that I like some of the changes you've made…what did you call them…shifts? But, if you decide to make any more shifts…I don't want it to be because I force you too. I…want it to be because you were headed there anyway. I'm not stupid. To you, watching the sunrise was…just a coincidence. You came out because you wanted to know why I was here."

She stood and offered him her hand to help him up. Once he was up she added, "What's funny is…no matter the reason _why_ you came out here…it didn't make it any less pleasant to have you here."


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer-**I don't own House or Cuddy. This chapter includes adult content.

* * *

><p>While House showered, Cuddy picked up his guitar to get a good look at it, although she had absolutely no idea how to play the instrument. He really loved the gift, in fact, she was relatively certain that she had never seen him so excited about anything he'd ever received. She moved it into position to pluck the strings, fingers skimming along the frets, and jumped when his phone rang by the bedside. He shouted from the shower, "Who is it?"<p>

Cuddy looked at the display which read: 'Horny Lesbo'

"Kate," she shouted back.

"Answer it"

"Hello?" Cuddy answered.

"House, if you always sounded this sexy, I'd never hang up. How are you Lisa?" Kate asked.

"Good. He's showering though, want me to have him call you back?"

"Well, he has a small problem. Lawoti quit…I'm sure you'll be hearing from his boss soon…I have a feeling they may need him back."

"OK. We were coming back in a few days anyway…so it's fine"

"So…"

"Sooo…what?"

"Do you...like him?"

"Totally…like, ever since that one day at recess," Cuddy answered sarcastically.

Kate laughed, "Fine, Dr. Cuddy, do you still find House to be an intriguing person worthy of a future expenditure of your time?"

"He's alright I guess," she smirked as he emerged from the shower.

"So if he has to come back early, it would be nice to have you visit here for a few days, we could have a pajama party, I'm sure I have something suitable for you to borrow."

"Uh-huh…are we talking silk, lace or leather," she asked suspiciously.

"I would definitely let you pick…I feel it's best to let an artist express herself in the medium in which she is most comfortable."

Cuddy replied dryly, "How considerate."

"It's not really considerate so much as opportunistic…I prefer to see a woman's best work."

House held out his hand in a 'gimmie' motion and took the phone.

"I overheard leather or lace…You girls planning a welcome home for party for me?"

"Unfortunately probably earlier than you expected. Lawoti quit this morning."

"I'm really at a loss for what I could have done wrong this time...since I wasn't even there."

"She said she was going to work somewhere where she was valued for more than her breasts."

"Did she have work done while I was gone? If not, she'd _have_ to be valued for more than her breasts, I don't remember them being noteworthy...or...visible."

"Altland's gonna call you…I'm sure of that. Final results are due for that alpha-L-rhamnosidase study. Want me to get into your office…see what the status is on all of that?"

"He's going to expect me to be there anyway, if Lawoti's gone. Thanks for letting me know."

"Hey…you are such a lucky bastard. That sexy raspy little voice..."

"I've been listening to that voice bitch and moan for…" Cuddy looked up at him suspiciously, "I mean I've dreamed of that voice, whispering sweetly," he corrected with exaggerated syrupiness.

"I'll take care of her while you're at work finishing up that crap…if you have to work really late, she can crash in my room, no one should be alone during a pajama party!"

"Do you have any idea how many lesbians have probably tried to have a crack at that and failed? Why limit yourself to lesbians, men too…she was untouched when we met and never slept with another soul after that"

"That horrifying of an experience?"

"I mean she reserved herself for me"

"She is a patient woman to go without sex for years at a time…I'll bet she owns stock in batteries."

"I'm actually just that good, women feel satisfied for years afterward."

"I think that she needs to expand her horizons then…I mean, at least she could work the whole 'it's a woman so it isn't really cheating' angle."

"You do know that you're referring to the only thing that would cause me to end our friendship, right?"

"Wow…you sure about that?"

"Absolutely."

"That's so cool…you really like her…"

"No...I just don't play well with others."

"You…are a miserable liar."

"See ya tomorrow."

House hung up and winced, "Umm...sorry I…" he looked down at his guitar on the bed, "Did you touch her…without my permission?" he teased, "I can't believe you'd hook up with my other girl like that"

"She's got great curves."

"She does, doesn't she?" he answered, picking up the guitar and moving it over to its case.

"Look, I have to go back home, I should probably leave early tomorrow. I'll, go rent a car, and you can come meet me when you're done down here."

"No. It's OK. I'll go back with you, it'll be fine. We can stay up there for a day or two, and then, if you get everything done at work, we can head to Baltimore after that. Look, no matter, what happens tomorrow, or next week...thank you for everything. Thanks for being there for me. You were there when I really needed you."

She kissed him with all of the gratitude and appreciation she had in her heart until his phone rang. He sighed before answering, the weight of a return to reality on his shoulders, "Hey boss," he answered.

* * *

><p>They sat on the back patio enjoying their final dinner of the vacation.<p>

"Don't you hate that sickening feeling you get when you know reality is right around the corner again?" Cuddy asked.

"I wouldn't know, I try to avoid reality whenever possible."

"Tomorrow back to the real world."

"You have a few days yet to enjoy, you can stay with me, at least it's not back to home and work for you yet. Altland told me I can take the rest of my vacation as soon I turn in the findings on that study Lawoti left unfinished. So, once I get that wrapped up, I'll be free to irritate you for a few more days."

"Do you…like your job at Penn?"

"It's interesting…sometimes. Searching for patterns in piles of seemingly unrelated things…no patients…no lawsuits…which for me, is unbelievably impressive, although I was worried that centrifuge might try to get me for harassment, but we worked it all out outside of court."

"But…do you…miss being a doctor?"

"I don't know…maybe parts of it"

"Why didn't you ever get your license back? I mean, you could right?"

"I could…I just don't."

"I think it's hard to imagine you being stimulated enough to get through the day, you get bored so easily."

"You think any moron can do this level of research?"

"No, I didn't say that."

"I'm…making it work."

"You sound awfully defensive for someone who's mocked me for years for not being a real doctor…"

"Sometimes I miss it. I miss the unfolding of symptoms, waiting for patients to react to treatments, the whole literal 'deadline' to spur me on. I don't miss the patients and families…I don't want to go back to where I was."

"You don't know that would happen."

"I don't know that it wouldn't. I thought last time that I could go back and I ruined everything. My career, the chance of a real relationship, my friendship with Wilson. That's a huge risk."

"You and I…we're a big risk..."

"Let's deal with one big risk at a time. Change…is not good for me. I know what this is," he pointed in accusation, "_You_ think that this job is beneath me."

"No. Definitely not. I just, want you to be happy. Puzzles make you happy. I…think this job has been good for you…you seem to value it, but, if down the road you want to get your license back…I think you should do it, that's all."

"Noted"

She watched his slightly pouty expression, as he was considering their conversation. She stood up, walked around behind his chair and pulled it back from the table, leaning down and wrapping her arms around his neck, her chin resting on his shoulder. He did the same thing he always did when she initiated a touch that was caring but not sexual: he tensed under her touch briefly before relaxing into it. "You know…I could help you brush up, _if_ you decide to go back."

"Or…you could just hang around and give me the answers…worked in school, then I don't have to bother with all of the remembering."

She planted a sweet kiss along his jaw line and ran her hands along his ribs. "You can't possibly be angling for more sex," he scoffed.

"I'm…just helping you study," she whispered into his ear as her hands worked lower across his stomach.

"No…that definitely feels like you silently begging for more."

"Does it?" she said, giggling softly, and pointing to the slight twitch in the front of his jeans, "I think you're the one silently begging for more."

"Because you're touching me like that, and I know what that touch means, so I'm reacting appropriately to the actions that you've programmed me to react to. You're manipulating me," he accused with playful horror.

"I am …exceptionally good at manipulating you."

She walked around in front of him and pulled his hips forward in the chair so he was slouching. She knelt in front of him, wiggling her body between his knees. She ran her hands along his stomach, tickling and kissing his skin. "We're outside," he cautioned, making a halfhearted attempt to push her away.

"When did you get all shy? No one can see up here anyway."

"They might…"

"This…coming from the man who had me panting in alleyway a few days ago and was ready to put on a show for the oldest woman in the state"

"I was…relatively confident you'd turn me down once you thought about where you were. Seriously, you don't have to…"

"Yea such a sacrifice," she smiled up at him as she opened the top button on his jeans. "I just want to make sure your mind is as sharp as ever, it's like tutoring."

"If you would have been my tutor I wouldn't have needed to cheat," he grunted as he tipped his head back against the seat.

"Name the diseases of the endocrine system."

"What?" he asked lifting his head back up from the seat.

"Want me to keep going?" she asked, sounding cool and studious as she freed him from his clothes.

"Uhh…yea"

"OK then…diseases…endocrine system. And since you hesitated…I want them alphabetically."

He looked at her with amused surprise before turning to concentrate on the question, "Umm…Acromegaly"

"Good…you keep going, I keep going…simple" she purred, placing her lips against him but remaining still until he continued.

"Adrenocortical carcinoma, Addison's," he shuddered laying one hand along her shoulder.

"Mmm hmmm," she voiced, the vibrations sending a jolt through his body.

"Congenital adrenal hyperplasia…Cushing's"

"You forgot Conn's"

"Right…yea…Conn's. Did I mention you are the best girlfriend ever?"

* * *

><p>House woke to the sounds of hurried footfalls and items being redirected from one location to another, disappointed to find himself in an empty bed again. He grumbled as he rubbed his thigh and Cuddy bound in through the door carrying clothes that she neatly stacked in her suitcase. "I find it weird that we're doing this and yet I'm still waking up in a cold bed in the morning. I thought I was the one that was supposed to be up and not sleeping while you were busily snoring away."<p>

"You grouchy sweetheart?" she asked drolly, "poor guy was up late studying…you work too hard. Speaking of studying, should I be impressed or insulted that you were able to focus through Klinefelter's?"

"You should definitely be impressed. Although I'm still a bit insulted you wouldn't let me return the favor out there."

"I didn't want anyone to see me."

"A slight double standard?"

"I don't think our relocation ruined your fun at all. You know perfectly well Wilson's going to be so pissed if he ever finds out about the poker table."

"That's half the fun."

She snickered as she swooped past him kissing him quickly before he even had a chance to pucker.

"Slow down woman, your 'hurricaning' all around here is too much this early."

"Lots to do!" and she was gone as quickly as she came.

He walked to the kitchen, finding the coffee that she left for him and leaning against the counter rubbing his forehead, desperately trying to become more alert. He heard her jogging up the stairs, with energy he felt he didn't have at his absolute best, much less this early in the morning. Her progress was abruptly stopped by his hand on her wrist and pulling her back to him. He held her right in front of him, closed his eyes and said simply, "Shhhh."

"House, I really…"

"Shhh…" he interrupted, pushing her face to his chest. "We need to discuss morning quiet time…and schedule our next study session, I can't let this go to the wayside"

She smacked his back softly, "We have to go. Altland expects to see you tonight. Fun time's over."

When their things were packed up they looked at the house for a few minutes, eventually each sinking back into their seats. House turned the key in the ignition. "Worried?"

"A bit," she acknowledged. "You?"

"Maybe a little."

He pulled the car out of the driveway and began the journey home. "We'll have to stop at the pet store for a training collar or we'll never keep Kate off of you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN-**next time-back in Jersey at Kate's!Thanks everyone!**  
><strong>


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N** -I'm really enjoying reading about where people want this story to go, feedback, good or bad, is fantastic, since I'm pretty sure it's impossible to please all of the people, all of the time. :) I already have an idea of where the story is going overall, but sometimes it's fun to make sure people get to see the aspects that they are really interested in, if it works with the story. I know a lot of people have mentioned that some things feel like some issues aren't resolved yet...it's because they aren't. I'm trying to allow detail and healing to unfold in a way that's sort of natural for the characters, (or as natural as it can be for the purposes of this story) and since they both hesitate with with matters of emotion, I didn't feel like everything could be resolved with a neatly tied up bow in a small package...they always seemed to work with the steps forward, steps back sort of dynamic.

I've gotten a lot of requests for the story to go slower, that it feels like I'm rushing things forward. It's a really valid point, I'll try to slow things down a bit. I get excited and move things forward more quickly than intended. I need to practice patience, I'm pretty obsessive...I'm sure no one noticed :)

**Disclaimer**- I don't House, Cuddy or Wilson

* * *

><p>When they arrived back in New Jersey, Kate was just stepping out of her car and into driveway. "I missed you, you grouchy old bitch!" she said, walking over to House to give him a half hug, which he didn't return, but didn't run from either. "What time are you meeting with Altland?"<p>

"In an hour"

Kate turned, flashing a broad smile at Cuddy. Kate wrapped Cuddy up in a friendly hug, looking over at her shoulder at House and smirking victoriously. She took Cuddy's arm and led her inside, "I am so glad you decided to come here to visit. I got out the silky number for our party…is that OK?"

"I guess…I mean, I really prefer leather, but it's up to you."

"God you're a lucky bastard" Kate said in House's direction, as she shook her head and walked back out to the car to bring in luggage. "What's this?" she asked as she walked through the front door with one of Cuddy's rolling bags and House's new guitar.

"It's mine…stop groping my things?" House answered.

Kate pushed past him, putting the guitar case on the coffee table and opening it up. "Where did you get this?"

"One of my adoring fans"

"By which you mean your only adoring fan"

"You're just jealous because you didn't buy it for me first"

"You know…my guitarist for Saturday cancelled…soo…"

"Nope"

"You didn't let me finish"

"You don't have to…the answer's already no"

"Come on…please, you sounded great when you helped me practice"

"No. I don't need a pile of drunken idiots suddenly thinking I'm sensitive and caring. I've worked for years to get them to keep their thoughts to themselves and leave me alone. I'm not ruining all of that hard work now."

"I've been telling him since he started working with me, get your ass up on that stage, the girls will love you…you'll get a steady stream of p…umm," she stopped as soon as she saw the disapproving look on Cuddy's face, "a steady stream of people's adoration and respect."

"Yea, cause that's what he's hoping for…the adoration and respect of strangers," Cuddy responded skeptically.

"She's been providing me with ample adoration and respect," he leered at Cuddy.

"So Lisa…" Kate said, walking over next to her and leaning against the wall, "we'll have hours and hours of time to ourselves…what sort of awe-inspiring, life changing activities would you like to engage in while we wait for a certain someone to come home?"

"May I please have Cuddy back for a few minutes before I have to leave?" he said, moving past Kate with his duffel bag to direct Cuddy back to his room. She had been there briefly the morning she woke at their place, but now things felt vastly different. "Umm…" he began scratching his neck, "I don't know how late I'll be, I want to get this wrapped up so we can have a few more days, just get comfortable, and I'm sure Kate has plenty of questions bottled up and lots of nosing around to do."

She sat on the edge of his bed watching him unceremoniously pull off his tee shirt and toss it on the floor before walking to his closet to grab a button down. She loved the way his pants hung low on his narrow hips as she observed his actions with interest, "You know, you don't let me ogle you nearly often enough."

"Funny thing about ogling, you can't wait for an invitation, you have to make your own opportunities."

"I…wish you didn't have to go," she said, unable to avoid wondering how things would go now that he was back to the frustrations of work and life.

He stood there by his closet just watching her. "Me too," he finally added, ending her uncomfortable wait. He started to walk out of the room and hesitated, changing his mind and walking back over to her while she sat on the bed. He kissed her passionately, mumbling, "We really have to practice the whole 'quickie' thing for times like these." He grumbled looking upward before extracting himself from the bed, "I'll be back when I can. Remember, if you snoop I'm not responsible for anything you may find," he smirked.

They walked out to the living room and stood there uncomfortably as if they didn't yet know the proper protocol for their goodbyes. He leaned toward her, pressing his lips to her cheek just as Kate walked back in and immediately turned to walk out, trying to avoid disrupting something between them.

"I'll see you later," he whispered to Cuddy. "I'm leaving," he shouted out toward the hallway.

"See ya," Cuddy whispered back.

"Enjoy girls' night. Try to limit your discussions to my heart-stopping smile and how dreamy you think I am…that should fill at least five or six hours," he said loudly enough for Kate to hear.

"Don't worry, I'm sure we'll think of _something_ to do," Kate gloated, as she entered the room and walked over to Cuddy, draping an arm around her shoulders as House halfheartedly waved goodbye.

As the door closed Kate smiled, patting Cuddy's shoulder, and moving away toward the kitchen. "Come on"

Kate got them both bottles of water and sat at the table, "How was the beach?"

"Fine…it was nice"

"So…House…"

Cuddy nodded. "Yea. If I had a dollar for every time someone's said 'So…House…' to me… Are you…gonna suddenly tell me why I need to be careful and that this is a bad idea"

"Oh my god no. I think it's a fantastic idea."

"OK," Cuddy answered, waiting for her to add a disclaimer to the statement.

"Look, when he first moved here…I tried to hook him up...more than once. I mean, I found some pretty good looking girls, that's…originally why I wanted him to work at the bar. He was…so damn grouchy and depressed it was irritating. He hooked up with a couple of them, near the beginning…which went…I'll just say less than great…so, I kept trying. He actually got…really irritated, bitching at me to leave him alone. I…essentially told him to toughen up and just come out of the fucking closet…I mean, I heard about Wilson a few times…I just…assumed it was a secret crush."

Cuddy smirked, "It is sort of a crush in its own weird way."

Kate smirked, "Well I was initially thinking 'crush' in the more traditional sense. He didn't even argue it with me…so I assumed I was right. Then…I started trying to introduce him to guys."

Cuddy giggled, covering her mouth with her hand, "How did that go?"

"Look…I made a mistake…I can admit it," Kate laughed. "Anyway, we were closing up the bar this one evening, after I had arranged to have three different guys come in, just to try to figure out his type…he told me in…no uncertain terms, that I should stop. I bitched at him about being a closeted coward…and then he told me all about you…and then told me to keep my nose out of it."

"_All _about me?"

"Well, I mean, a lot. It was a relatively long story for him at the time, so probably three minutes of conversation, but enough to make an impression and get me to stop trying to hook him up."

"What did he say?"

"Where you met…where you re-met…how you avoided dating, then dated anyway…how you stopped dating…the fallout…I think that's about as specific as I'm going to get, I'm not into betraying his confidence…but you…you were the one he wanted. After meeting you, it sorta made sense," Kate complimented with a hint of flirtation. "Look, I'm gonna go shower, the crazy people really had me running today…but help yourself to whatever, I won't be too long, then we can see if we want to go get some dinner, or…whatever."

After Cuddy heard the water running, she returned to House's room. She was drawn to this space, so intimate and personal, and wanted to spend time there. She walked around the room looking at the sparse furnishings for clues about the man he now was. She was leafing through a few medical journals and caught sight of the checked box on his shelf, remembering that he said he had a drawing from Rachel tucked inside that very box. She hesitated, not wanting to feel as if she were snooping, but finally decided that his insistence that she could verify the existence of the drawing was permission enough. She opened the box and immediately saw the paper that her little girl's hands had once touched. It was strange to remember her clumsy little fingers holding over-sized crayons as a toddler, and watching her dexterity develop as she grew older. A melancholy smile crossed her face as she thought of this paper being held by those same little hands.

She held the drawing against her chest, evoking the memory of her little girl and marveling that this man had kept a token of her. She neatly folded the paper along the previously established creases and moved to place it back into the box when she saw the white backs of photo paper staring up at her from the bottom. On impulse she picked the pictures up and flipped them over. There were several older photos of people she didn't recognize. The first photo she recognized was of her and two other doctors at a hospital function when she first began at Princeton. She was nearly certain this photo was inexplicably taken from another doctor's office years earlier. She marveled at how young and optimistic she appeared. She flipped to the next picture and her general sense of ease fled her body, sorrow gripping at her heart, as she saw a picture of her daughter with House. In the photo, he was reading intently on the sofa, partially upright with his head against the armrest. Rachel was next to him, also reading, mimicking his pose almost perfectly as she sat wedged between his side and the sofa back.

This was the same picture she had seen Rachel with on numerous occasions. This very image that had elicited unbelievable annoyance and sometimes anger for so long when she saw her daughter with it, was now evidence of a bond that was so tentative and elusive at the time the picture was taken, but present and tangible nonetheless. Tears filled her eyes faster than she could acknowledge their presence and she stooped leaning down against the shelf with her elbow and resting her head in her hand. This sudden reminder of everything that had been lost over the years wracked both her body and mind with emotion. She jumped suddenly at the most delicate of touches on her shoulder blade.

Kate stood behind her and turned her body to face her, pulling Cuddy into a warm and soft embrace. Cuddy cried there for a few moments, horrified by the prospect of this near stranger seeing her cry and offering comfort, but so filled with emotion that she could do nothing to stop it. "Sorry," Cuddy said abruptly as she pulled herself away.

"I understand," Kate said sympathetically, and soon regretfully, when she could see the irritated and doubtful expression on Cuddy's face. Kate said gently, "come with me," grabbed Cuddy's wrist and guided her into the hall toward Kate's room. Cuddy stopped at the door, with hesitance and suspicion at Kate's motivations. Kate turned back toward her, "Believe me, under normal circumstances, I'd definitely try something with you..."

Cuddy stuttered, uncomfortable with this sudden turn, coupled with the torrent of emotions she was still experiencing from her discoveries in House's room. Kate put her finger up, to silence Cuddy. "But," Kate continued firmly, "House is my friend, he's…more like my brother. Even if I were the type to sleep with my brother's girl, which I'm not…but even if I was…I still wouldn't sleep with the love of his life."

Cuddy nodded, both hearing and feeling the sincerity Kate tried to convey and followed into her room. Kate sat down on the edge of the bed, Cuddy next to her, and reached into the drawer at the bedside table. "I'll tell you this once…and then, after that, I never want to discuss it again," Kate said, waiting for Cuddy's agreement.

Kate reached into the drawer and pulled out a small photo book, handing it to Cuddy. She opened it to find pictures of a boy, spanning from birth up to what was probably school age, really only ten photos in all. "In college, my best friend got pregnant. Her boyfriend left her when he found out. I…had loved her for years. I offered to help her with the baby, and a relationship developed between us. I was there when Cody was born. I changed his diapers, and fed him at three am while studying physiology. I helped him learn to use a spoon, and I'd sit on the floor and tickle him until he couldn't stop hiccuping. The kid had the most infectious laugh," she said pointing to a nearly toothless photo.

"When did he die?" Cuddy asked wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Oh he didn't. He's a teenager now. His father came back my last year of med school. His mom…decided it was best for him to live a _normal_ life. Initially she kept contact, but…his dad was pretty controlling. After a few months I wasn't allowed to see him anymore. They moved, changed their numbers …that's it."

"That's it?"

Kate laughed somewhat bitterly, "It is. He is my son, he'll always be my son, but I had no legal right over that kid, never will."

"There's got to be something you can do"

"I tried at first…but I knew at some point my fighting for him wouldn't get me anywhere, I had to accept that. I also had to accept that, it would probably be painful for him if I continued. Sometimes...acceptance is your only viable option."

Cuddy turned, her face filled with irritation, "I'm so…sorry…maybe...House…can figure something out."

Kate smiled, "I didn't tell you that for sympathy, or to try to fix the situation. I just want you to know…I understand a little. I mean, I'm lucky, mine still gets to live out his life…but, I understand what it feels like to miss someone that much."

They sat silently in Kate's room for a few moments, each with a share in the tears, until Kate stood up, "Come on, better put his stuff back."

Cuddy went to his room and placed the items all in the box and returned it to its spot and joined Kate out in the living room.

Kate's phone was on the coffee table and lit up with a text from 'Crotchety Bastard': '_Lawoti destroyed all analysis. Found raw data and case studies on TA's computer. Gonna be a long night'_

Kate responded: _'I never liked her'_

House: _'How's Cuddy?'_

Kate: _'She's good'_

House: '_Hands off my stuff. By stuff I mean boobs_'

Kate: '_oops! you should have made all these pesky rules before you left_'

Kate relayed the pertinent information from the texts as Cuddy stared absently at the journals and books along the walls.

"Love of his life, huh?" Cuddy asked, referencing Kate's earlier claims of House's feelings. "Those your words or his?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yea…I guess…I'm just curious about where we stand in his head, but I'm not even sure if it matters"

"What does he say about it?"

"Not much"

"Not much means he did say something"

"He sort of called me his girlfriend, but it was situational"

"Situational? Like 'hey girlfriend let's do some shopping' or 'we were hanging out like a couple of girlfriends'? Wait, were you having sex?"

"No…nevermind, it's not important"

"You look ridiculously uncomfortable." Kate's expression lit up, "Oh my god. You were blowing him weren't you…Hahaha" she laughed uproariously as Cuddy tried to deny the allegations. "Don't get me wrong, that's awesome…disgusting…but awesome. That settles it, if he ever goes completely off the wall again, I'm gonna fight for you. Agreed?"

"Sure," Cuddy smirked, "if you'll agree to never, ever mention any of that again."

Kate giggled before her mood turned more serious, "Look, how offended would you be if I wanted to go into work…see if I could give him a hand."

"Oh…sure…"

"If you don't want me to, I don't have to go"

"Well, it's not that. Could…I go too?"


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N**-i missed having them working together...

**Disclaimer**-i don't own either of their lovely asses.

* * *

><p>Cuddy found one of the outfits that she bought on vacation that seemed suitably professional. She claimed she needed to look nice in case one of her peers recognized her, although the reality of the situation was that she had always enjoyed the attention House gave her and her outfits, and was eager to be in familiar territory. Kate changed similarly, adopting the look and behavior of a professional with complete ease. They walked out to get in the car and Kate calmly looked at Cuddy, "I'll drive, the jackass took your car."<p>

Cuddy smiled, realizing that his car was still at the bar where they had left it, and feeling completely amused that he was as presumptuous as ever, taking her car without a word.

Immediately upon arriving at the hospital, a small group of residents descended on Kate, "Dr. Vega, we have a problem," several of them hollered as Kate stopped to speak to them and Cuddy looked on. When their business was finished they continued on to the elevator. "Apparently, House commandeered half of my team…nice," Kate said as she rubbed her forehead, "I'll take you to his office and then I'll go see what's going on up on my floor."

They were in the basement, in parts of the building accessible only by keycard, walking down a long boring hallway, when a door smacked against the wall as it opened and a young student in a lab coat fled the office, eagerly dashing down the hall. Kate tried momentarily to stop her but the student was clearly uninterested in talking. "I…think I can figure out which one's his," Cuddy smiled.

"That's my best TA, I need to make sure she's not quitting," Kate said to Cuddy before turning down the hall to follow the student.

Cuddy walked to the heavy wooden door with a small metal plate that read simply: 'RESEARCH-B'. She tapped softly on the door with one knuckle as she walked in. A group of four clearly frazzled students slouched over computers, stopping only briefly to look at her. When they realized they didn't recognize her, they went back to their work. "I'm…here for Dr. House..."

Three of the four students pointed toward a door at the back of the small office. Cuddy made her way through the crowded and tiny room to another thick wooden door, this one with a small metal plate bearing the name 'G. House'. She again wrapped against the door softly with one knuckle as she walked in. She could feel the students' eyes on her, filled with some trepidation on behalf of the person they saw as an unsuspecting intruder.

"Busy here…I don't have time to hold your damn hand, so either do the job or…" he stopped his rant as he looked up from his paper and pulled of his glasses, "You the new applicant?" he said with a half-smile as his eyes automatically poured down over her. "How'd you get down here?"

"Kate let me in"

He nodded, "You look good"

She smiled as she looked around the room. This office too was tiny, roughly a quarter of the size of his old office, dark and windowless. His desk was covered with paper, two computers and various small office supplies she assumed he was tinkering with as he thought.

"Where'd Kate go?" he asked.

"Apparently to try to calm down the assistant that just ran from this room"

"I didn't even say anything…not really," he defended himself.

"This hospital is known for research and this is the best they could do for the head of the department?"

"The head of the department has a really nice large office about four floors up"

She furrowed her brow with confusion.

"I…am not the head of the department. I run one of the research groups, Altland is the department head. Offices are crappy but we have a fancy private lab."

"Oh. Sorry, I just assumed…

"I'd definitely have to be licensed to be department head, but I remember how enthusiastic you are about me getting my license, so I am definitely OK with it if you want to talk about that some more," he smirked.

She failed to suppress an embarrassed grin before she deflected, "I…just wanted to know if you wanted some help. Well…I was curious about where you work and I thought maybe I could help, if there's something for me to do."

"I don't know if I can afford to pay you your usual salary…and, I'm…actually known for being a really big asshole, not many people volunteer to work with me gratis."

"I've always preferred to work with really big assholes," she said as she leaned against the far wall near the door. He lifted his feet off of a chair in front of him and kicked it out for her to sit on.

He made no attempt to hide his scrutiny of her as he watched her approach, swaying her hips. She sat down on the chair directly in front of him, crossing her legs with overtly feminine flair. He enjoyed the sight a few moments longer before saying, "You…are distracting me"

"I'll help. Really. What do you want me to do?"

He shifted his focus from her to his work and began to explain how he was organizing his findings. "These final forty-some cases, do not fall in line with our findings, at all. I need to figure out what's connecting the remaining cases. The idiots hunched over computers out there are making the other results look pretty for the bosses upstairs, but I need to be able to explain these. I'm going through each one, cataloging each of these variables, and when I'm done hopefully I'll be able to find some similarities in the outliers."

He slid a recording sheet and a laptop across the desk toward her and watched as she started looking over the records on the screen.

They poured through the records, meticulously documenting the needed information. He stopped at one point when his eyes were strained and tired and sat back in his seat, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. He dropped his arms down onto the arms of the chair and looked over at Cuddy, her concentration uninterrupted by his movement. She was staring at the screen, the end of her pen pinched between her teeth, completely engrossed in her reading. He smiled subtly at how attractive she looked there, her face lit by the glow of the computer screen, her mind engaged and her focus intense. He faced his computer screen once again, reviewing the records and realizing that there was only a handful left. "So…I guess the tables have turned…"

"Huh?" she asked without looking up, making notes with her pen and keying the proper information into the computer.

"Well, this is my project right?"

"Yes," she answered affectlessly.

"And, you are taking direction from me, right?"

"Yea, sure"

"So, I guess that means now,_ I'm_ actually _your_ boss."

She stopped working and glanced over at him, his eyes on her, his mouth turned in a smug grin.

He asked, "Do you have any idea, how much different things would have been had_ I_ been _your_ boss at Princeton...how much more fun we would have had if you would have answered to me…"

"Actually, I was just thinking this through," she said, leaning down onto her hand, "and really I don't think it would have been that different."

"Really?"

"Yea, because you would have hired me, then, I'm thinking within about 15 minutes, you would have made a wildly inappropriate pass, I'd go to HR for sexual harassment, you'd be fired and subsequently I'd become dean anyway. Then, I'd feel bad for you and hire you back, with a stern warning to behave, which you'd never really obey, and at some point we'd probably end up caving in to our feelings and we'd be right back here again anyway."

He shrugged, as if accepting the inevitability of her statement. They finished reviewing the final few records and decided they needed a break before attempting to draw any conclusions from the information they gathered.

"Any chance you want to join my group on a more permanent basis? We have these fine facilities, and you'd have a boss who is devastatingly handsome."

"I'll try to get an interview"

Kate burst through the door, "If you are going to steal my residents, which, I'm relatively certain you'll continue to do, the least you could do is not drive them to quit!"

"If she can't handle a little constructive criticism, she has no business being in medicine"

"Damn House…irritate the useless ones instead…please!"

Kate's phone rang and she rolled her eyes answering, "Yes I'll be right up." She ended her call, "There's trouble up on my floor, that's the boss he wants to see me. So damn glad I came in tonight," Kate said as she hurried from the room.

"Cafeteria?" he asked.

"Sure," Cuddy said as she left with him for something to eat. "Kate seems a little pissed."

"Probably not the first time…definitely not the last," he said as they walked along the corridor to the elevator.

"Don't you think it's a little strange that she's so guarded with her feelings?"

"I want to make sure I have this right…You're asking_ me_ if I think someone else is guarded with their feelings?"

"Aren't psychiatrists supposed to want to talk things out, deal with issues instead of repressing…I thought that was all part of the training."

"She told you…didn't she?"

"About her son, yea, she told me. She's, a mental health professional who's completely distanced herself from a lot of her feelings…she has difficulty forming healthy relationships…"

"I used Vicodin for years, heavily…while drinking, heavily…that ring a bell?"

Cuddy nodded with unreserved agreement.

"As a doctor, I'm pretty sure I knew the effects of those actions on my body. She knows what's healthy for the human mind… but_ knowing_ isn't always enough of a reason to modify the actual behavior. Sometimes it hurts less to go with the unhealthy option."

She moved in front of him to stop his progress. "Are you trying to tell me this is what's best? That I'm supposed to pretend her behavior is OK for her?"

"I think it is OK for her…"

"She needs to at least try to contact him. There's got to be something we can do..."

"There is nothing we can do, it's her decision. She decided it's what's healthiest for the kid. If that's what she thinks, she's probably right, she knows the situation better than anyone."

"She has the opportunity to have that relationship, she doesn't have to let that go."

"This is why I should have warned her not to tell you. You are turning this into some sort of crusade to make you feel better about Rachel. You think that by helping her recoup that loss it will help you, and it won't. And…it won't help Kate, she's moved on, she needed to move on."

Cuddy shook her head with frustration and continued down the hall, trying to walk ahead of him, but couldn't get through the door at the end of the hall without a keycard. She looked in his direction but not directly at him, "open the damn door."

"No," he said, "Just wait a second. This isn't about you and it isn't about Rachel"

"I know that"

"And, it also doesn't mean you are incapable of a relationship."

"That has _nothing_ to do with anything"

"Sure it does. You think that by fixing Kate's situation you can not only restore her broken maternal bond, but that she'll be able to find true love and live happily ever after… Deep down, you are concerned that you will always run away. You fear you're equally incapable of being in a long term committed relationship."

"You are _completely _deluded. I am perfectly able to separate Kate's circumstance from my own…and…"

"Fine, you must be right, but I am still not getting involved. If Kate decides she needs to pursue that, she will, she's a big girl."

"You're just going to let this go?"

"I can't micromanage everyone's lives. I have enough trouble managing my own, and right now I'll stick with managing my own, and interjecting some much needed Cuddy into that. I think I may be getting jealous: Instead of trying to use Kate to prove you are capable of a relationship, why not use me..." he quipped, trying to remove the tension.

She opened her mouth to protest, angry that he was turning what she felt was legitimate concern for another person into a symbol of her own handling of relationships. Her eyes were angry, muscles tense and mind in overdrive, and the irritating bastard kissed her. He moved down quickly and decisively, his lips landing softly against hers. He kissed one lip, then the other, gently, caringly. This gentle series of kisses enraged her even more, because if he was going to kiss her at least he should acknowledge that this was an angry fight kiss, not a lovey make up kiss. She opened her eyes and he looked back at her, smiling. There was no rage or even confrontation evident on his face. "You are so fucking unbelievable," she said with irritation.

"Give me a little time, there are even more amazing skills where that came from," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her again.

"We…are fighting right now!" she said, putting a hand to his chest to keep him at bay.

"I know, it feels really good"

"We are in the hospital"

"That's why it feels really good, the smell of disinfectant, coupled with the sounds of heated discord and the sight of your heaving chest... Besides, its not your hospital, it's my hospital…I personally, don't care what they think of me," he smiled again trying to get close enough to her again.

"Stop, I'm angry with you"

"OK…be angry if you want"

"It's not a case of wanting to be angry!"

"Fine. You go ahead and stand here arguing with me, and I'll probably keep smirking because I'm imagining all of the things I'd like to do once I can get that skirt out of my way…or…we could take all of this…tension and irritation you're saving up, and put it to good use. I always liked it when it was a 'blow off some tension' fuck…I live to be used that way," he said flashing a smile.

"You are such an incredible jackass…and I…I…I hate how much I want you"

"Blindly infuriating isn't it?" he said as he grabbed her hand and limped down the hall as fast as he could.

They made it back to the front room of his office where the students looked up with a jerk as he flung the door open and went into the room. "Don't you guys have any self-respect?"

They all looked around, uncertain as to the answer that was expected from them. "Your boss must be a complete ass, go, get something to eat, come back in an hour."

"Altland's in your office" the most assertive of the group finally spoke.

House glanced at the door to his office, and the door to the hall, weighing his options and directing Cuddy over to the door to the hall, "Are you insane?" she asked as the students filed past them, "your boss is looking for you."

"You wanted to believe you were the only boss I ever tried to avoid?"

"I am not going to go somewhere else to have sex with you while your boss is looking for you. This may not be my hospital but I have zero interest in someone walking in on us."

He was just beginning to respond when the door to his office opened and a very short, extremely dignified man emerged. "Thought I heard you, what's the status of this study?"

"We're almost done, I went to get something to eat and realized I forgot my wallet"

"I doubt that, when have you ever paid for you own lunch, I'm sure this woman…" the man stopped and looked Cuddy over…"Lisa Cuddy…I remember you, you spoke at a conference a few years ago…about balancing innovative strategies without compromising patient safety…Vince Altland…" he said, extending a hand.

"I'm a little curious as to what you would be doing here with him."

She grimaced, "Dr House and I have known each other for a very long time"

"Right, most of us are aware of your…history…" Altland said looking them both over once more, "Get the study done House, tonight. I'm not going to break up you little reunion but I had better not hear of any drama down here, and I want your findings in my office it two hours, I need to present this shit tomorrow." He turned and looked at Cuddy. "I hope you know what you're doing," he shook his head with uncertainty.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer**- don't own House or Cuddy. This chapter includes adult content.

**A/N**- I know at least one person's unhappy with the inclusion of smut in this story... I'm still a big fan of sex...if you don't like it...skip the part after the '*' :)

-Corrected a few errors and republished.

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><p>House sat down at his desk, pulling the extra chair over next to him, and patting the seat. He started pulling up various charts displaying the data they had collected, easily explaining away the discrepancies in their findings once the information was organized neatly. One of the student assistants knocked on the door as they returned from their lunch break. Cuddy sat next to him, legs crossed at the knee, absentmindedly kicking her foot and brushing his calf. House gave the students the information needed to document the discrepancies and sat back. "All done," he stated calmly.<p>

She stared at him as if she were waiting for something. "What's that look?" he asked.

"You figured it all out!"

"Yup, it's all together. We're finished."

Cuddy couldn't help but notice that his mood was relatively unchanged after solving the problem. She was anticipating a moment of celebration similar to what she used to see when a case was solved, the few minutes of happiness that often washed over him in the wake of his success. Although that happiness was typically short lived, none of that excitement was there now. There was no suggestion of a celebratory dinner, or drinks, or gloating, just calm acceptance.

"Give them a few minutes to finish polishing things up and I'll deliver it to Altland. Then we can go."

"That guy's a jerk"

"I'm used to working for bossy people. Although he looks awful in low cut tops."

"You don't love this job"

"No…I don't _love_ it. I also don't hate it, it's a job," he said, pulling her leg up into his lap under the desk and studying her calf.

"What right does he have to comment on my being here with you? He doesn't know anything about you and I."

"If any other woman on the planet told you she was slumming around with a guy who was previously found guilty of some form of domestic violence against her, what would you say to her?" he asked, working his hand slowly up her leg, pushing firmly against the muscle beneath the skin and precisely hitting pressure points as he went along.

"It's not the same thing"

"It's not entirely different..."

Kate walked through the door. "Why'd your boss call my boss…wait…hands up where I can see them…like a pair of goddamn sex freaks," she flopped on the chair opposite the desk as both House and Cuddy slowly raised their hands. "Thank you, I just wanted to make sure"

"You were saying…my boss called your boss…" House said.

"Yes, to come down and babysit you. What did you do?"

"Nothing, for once I didn't do anything. We're just finishing up. I'll be ready to head out within the hour."

"Well, now that I'm here, I'm stuck. They have me keeping an eye on the residents on the third floor tonight."

House leaned over to whisper to Cuddy, "Another fantastic reason to not have a license. When I'm done here, we can leave, go home, and have the entire place to ourselves, while _Doctor_ Vega picks up for whichever moron couldn't show up on three."

Cuddy forced a smile. "Please, just keep your ass out of trouble. I have enough to deal with today. Take your girlfriend home and make up for lost time. Be happy for ten minutes…seriously," Kate said, clearly exhausted.

House nodded. "If she were my mine you wouldn't hear from me for a month," Kate added.

"You couldn't come close to meeting the needs of this woman. You'd be all weak and emaciated...begging for mercy"

Three of the students came to the door, delivering the necessary information to give to Altland for his presentation. "Good work," House muttered.

The three students practically ran from the room, likely concerned they'd be conscripted for a new task. House stood, grabbing his cane, to deliver the paperwork. Cuddy stood up and moved forward to let him walk past behind her. As he tried to come out from behind the desk she leaned back slightly, subtly brushing against him. "Tease," he whispered. "Waiting here?"

"Yea, I'm good," Cuddy said, smiling as House hobbled from the room to meet Altland.

"He didn't flinch or sneer when I called you his girlfriend…to be honest, I figured he'd at least attempt a sneer on principal alone!"

"I figured you were testing the waters," Cuddy smiled. "So, what in the hell is going on in your department?" she asked Kate.

"I have an investigation going on right now of one of my former doctors, it's…not pretty. On top of that, there's a ridiculous pissing contest going on between two doctors up on three that…"

Kate was interrupted by the sounds of messages coming through on her phone. Glancing down at the phone, Kate sighed. "I gotta go," she jumped up, attempting to gather enthusiasm before pausing at the door, "When are you guys leaving for Baltimore?"

"I think he wants to hang around for the band tomorrow night, so probably Sunday morning."

"OK…I'll see you at home then," Kate smiled as she left the room.

Cuddy hesitated momentarily before using the laptop to check her emails. A short while later, House was walking back into his office and found Cuddy in his chair, leaning on her hands, dozing peacefully at the desk. He moved silently nearer and took the seat that she had previously occupied, right next to her. He leaned over toward her, "Are you snooping in my porn?"

Her head jerked up, startled by the noise. "That looks like work," he nodded toward the computer.

"I was just checking in. Altland happy with your report?"

"Altland's never really what I'd call 'happy,' but he accepted it, so we're good."

"OK," she said, standing from her seat, smoothing out her clothes and trying to walk past him until she ran into his arm which he had stretched out and braced against the desk. He stood up behind her, wrapping his left arm around her waist and pushing her forward until her thighs were against the desk. His right hand pulled the hair away from her face and neck before his fingers traced along her ear, down her neck and along her collar bone. His lips moved to her ear, "We've been working together for hours, and I haven't had a chance to sexually harass you. Do you think I'm slipping?"

She giggled, reaching both hands back to his hips and pulling him close to her. "Let's go back to your place."

"*"

"Too far," he mumbled, sneaking his fingers to the lower buttons of her shirt to patiently open each one. After the bottom three buttons were open, he slipped his hand into her shirt to feel the softness of her stomach and caress over to the stark jut of her hip. He held her firmly against him as he felt her press back in a slow rhythmic pattern. His hand moved up to her breast, firmly groping her as he felt himself being pulled into the intensity of the moment. "I'm so glad you're giving me the opportunity to interview for the job," she purred.

She heard him exhale a chuckle as he reached mid-way down her thighs and placed his two large hands flat against her, firmly enough to grasp the fabric of her skirt, and shimmy the cloth up along her skin. Both of his hands moved back to her thighs, one hand mirroring the other, from her firm outer thighs to the silky smoothness of her inner thigh and up to her heat. His left hand moved to her left inner thigh, applying enough pressure to part her legs more fully, as his right hand reached to feel her wetness. In the space of the few moments since they had begun their foreplay, she was already dripping with wetness, his fingers slipping easily around, entirely without resistance. She was already moaning softly, her breath ragged as she dug her fingers into his hips, pulling him closer. His right hand continued circling with scant pressure around her clit, his left hand moved from her thigh, two fingers teasing at her entrance. "I want this…" she said, turning her head to put her mouth nearer to his ear and whispered desperately, "I want you…please…"

He thrust two fingers into her, continuing the perfect scant friction with his right hand, building her arousal with patient but increasingly intense attentions. She ground back against him and the feeling of him hard and needful behind her set off a forceful orgasm as her entire body pushed firmly back against him, trying to force their bodies so fully together they'd be unable to separate. The fingers of his left hand remained inside her, providing softly moving counter-pressure to the slowly fading pulses of her muscles. His right hand moved to her lower abdomen, firmly and steadily pulling her against him. She was completely weak and helpless, leaning against him for support and comfort, and he loved seeing her almost powerless in the aftereffects of her pleasure.

Her breathing slowed as she slipped down from her tiptoes to flat feet, brushing against him. He groaned at the contact, realizing at that moment the extent of his desire, which had been temporarily ignored in favor of meeting her needs. She reached back behind her to open his pants and he stopped the movement of her hands, turning her around to face him and lifting her up onto the desk. "Can't trust an applicant who won't look you in the eye," he teased.

She responded by kissing him before he could anticipate her next move. He growled low when she scooted down closer to him along the desk, her hands skimming along his torso under his shirt. Freeing himself from his jeans as quickly as he was able, he moved back to her and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips. He lined up with her entrance decisively, planning slow, controlled attentions designed to build her arousal back up to its peak. He just barely moved inside her, the first inches almost painfully tight, the sensations of being perfectly compressed and surrounded with pleasure enveloping him, when she pulled him firmly to her with her entire body, forcing him to bury himself deep within. She felt the muscles along his sides and back tense as the intensity of the moment swept over him. Her body still twitched and tugged around him, creating the most intense sensations without him moving at all. When he gradually started to move, her tightness was still nearly overpowering. She held him so close, her entire body holding him with near vise grip strength. "I've wanted this since the second you walked through that door today," he said against her neck. "Then I find you're like this...so wet for me..."

After a day of being so close to him, dressed in the ways she had traditionally used to drive him wild, he was furiously thrusting into her within moments. She was pulling him closer as her second orgasm approached, the feeling of his skin burning at the places she scratched and tugged just made him feel more lost in desire. As her climax began, she tipped back, pulling him nearly up onto the desk, most of his weight settled in his pelvis, driving him further into her, the weight of his body producing amazing sensations in hers. One of his hands gripped the back edge of the top of the desk, which he used for leverage, the other smashed between her ass and the desk. His orgasm overtook his body, the sensation of being lost inside her the only feeling that registered in his brain. As he started to come down from his peak, he realized she was still gyrating against him, her hips rocking steadily, unwilling to give up their rhythm, the pleasure at this point almost too much to tolerate. He grabbed both of her hips and held himself tightly to her, allowing his weight to remain focused on her pelvis as she finally began to slow.

He used his arms to lift himself up off of her and move his feet back to the floor. The laptop on the desk was now precariously close to the edge of the desk, papers strewn across the surface, some on the floor. His pencil cup had fallen, sending the contents across the room. She kissed him sweetly, before straightening her clothing and gathering the scattered items from the floor. "Did I get the job?"

"The one here? Well...noooo," he answered teasingly, as she responded with a look of displeased surprise.

"Wow, I guess I shouldn't have put out…"

He grabbed both of her arms and moved her back onto the desk gruffly. "_You_…are way too good to be stuck here in the basement with this grouchy bastard."

"Maybe I like this grouchy bastard"

"Good…then come back to my place, where we can think of so many more suitable jobs for you."

They composed themselves and decided to leave the hospital. The lobby was virtually empty, except for a security guard, and one nervously waiting couple, lights low due to the lateness of the hour. Kate got off of the elevator and walked into the lobby just as they were near the door. "I was hoping to run into you. Altland was headed down to check on you in your office one more time before leaving for that conference...I distracted him. You owe me..."

"For nothing! He's welcome to stop by my humble office at any time," House answered defensively.

"Right..." she said looking them over, "Your shirt buttons aren't lined up right," she pointed at Cuddy, "and you...have some sort of claw mark down the side of your neck," she pointed at House, "so...I'll warn security to be on the lookout for some sort of...horny supernatural terror...that may attack in the corridors of the basement, shall I?"

House smirked and Cuddy crossed her arms over her stomach. Kate continued, smiling, "So like I said...you owe me...goddamn sex freaks"


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N**-thanks as always to all who read, review and just plain enjoy the story...it makes me happy in an effervescent sort of way, and those who know me know i seldom effervesce :)

**Disclaimer**-Don't own these characters...and mom was right, apparently whining doesn't get me anywhere.

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><p>Before driving across the bridge back into New Jersey, they stopped at an all-night diner in Philly that reeked of history and hangovers, with a huge menu encased in tattered plastic covers and benches that were repeatedly patched with like-colored duct tape. "Nice car you have now, House, never thought you'd drive anything that didn't look like a high school pot head owned it," she teased, as he placed her keys on the table.<p>

He smirked at her repartee, replying, "Some chick gave it to me, but I'm scared she only likes me for my mind"

"Shallow bitch, it's just so hard to find a good woman these days"

"That's why I just rent them"

She winced slightly, causing him to instantly regret his comment. Cuddy looked over the menu, smiling politely at the waitress as she placed her order, but obviously distracted by his last statement.

"I'm always going to make snide remarks like that…it's…part of the package," he said, attempting to calm the uncomfortable feeling she seemed to exude.

"It's not that…"

"OK, then, what is it?"

She toyed with her utensils anxiously, thinking. "Do you…still do that?"

"I do still do_ that_, as recently as an hour ago, I could have sworn that was you with me…too bad you missed it, it was pret-ty hot"

"Can you be serious about this, please," she asked her fingers pressed to her forehead.

"You want to question me about the details of my sex life during our off-phase? You broke up with me, so…it seems a little unfair"

"I just want to know if you still…see hookers"

He smirked, "You're jealous"

"I am not…I just think it's disgusting…and…" she stopped, looking at the peculiar and triumphant look on his face…"What's that look?" she asked.

"No…I mean, yes…you probably do think it's disgusting, but, that's not why this is bothering you…you are completely jealous. I can see it. You were the only one in a serious relationship after we broke up. You found a way to move on like that…I didn't. I should probably be the jealous one…"

"You are jealous!" she said confidently.

"Fine, I am…"

"You're going to admit that…that easily?"

"We agreed to the truth didn't we? I am insanely jealous of the thought of you with another man, yes. Always have been. I may handle it better than I used to, but they have yet to develop the type of change possible in a human being that would allow me to _not_ be jealous of any man that you deem worthy."

"He wasn't worthy, that's why I got rid of him"

"He was worthy enough…almost a year, you kept him longer than me, I'm guessing, maybe by a few weeks?"

"I kept you for decades"

"It's not the same…"

"Are you still angry with me? For breaking up with you?"

He stared at the list of desserts printed on a small piece of white paper that was propped against the napkin dispenser. Deciding she wanted an answer, but didn't want him to feel caged, she waited patiently. Their food arrived and he still sat, staring at the paper, his finger tracing the words 'German Chocolate Cake' repeatedly.

"I thought you were hungry…" she said, after his food sat in front of him for a few minutes.

"I'm not angry…but I am still hurt"

"You said you were able to accept my apology"

"I did accept._ And_ I'm still hurt. Part of me…"

"Here's some refills, ya need anything else?" the waitress interrupted. Cuddy was irritated, but smiled and politely declined.

He picked up a fry, which he held for a moment before shoving into his mouth, "Part of me will always feel hurt because somewhere in my head I …assumed you'd always be there. You looked past a lot of my screw-ups over the years."

She reached out and placed her hand over his. She felt him begin to pull away and locked her hand down on his, refusing to let him budge, "Don't you dare…pull away from me…"

"You think Altland's gonna be the last person to question your sanity?" he asked accusingly.

"No…I don't"

"Let's pretend that for one minute, we keep…deciding that we still like each other enough to hang around. What will you do when all of the others tell you you're crazy? Your reputation _is _important to you."

"They have always told me I was crazy...from my original interest in you, to hiring you, to dating you…everything I've ever chosen to do in regards to you…they've called me crazy. You should have heard the things people said to me when they saw us flirting back in school. It's like a damn broken record…Why should that suddenly faze me now?"

He chewed, the look on his face one of intense scrutiny.

She let go of his hand, drew in a sip of water, and continued, "We are…dysfunctional…whether on our own, together, with others. Strangely you and I..._dysfunction_ well together. What's so odd is, I think people from the outside would see how you need to rebuild my trust…because…they all saw and heard about what you did…like usual, you wave your transgressions like a damn banner…and I commit mine quietly. I need to rebuild your trust too. I think…maybe…I can rebuild it. We got along well living in the same house, even before we started having sex again. We worked together today, very efficiently I might add. It was…fun."

They slipped into easier conversation for a bit, enjoying their food and watching, with some interest, the young couple across from them. Observing their flirtation and uncertainty evoked memories of themselves in earlier years despite attempts to ignore the obvious comparisons. "How long did you know I was there…at the bar?" she asked.

"When do you think I noticed?"

"A minute or two before you came over. I'm guessing…when all of those people scattered…my cover was ruined"

"I saw you a bit before that…like…before you sat down," he snickered.

"And you left me there…to…wait and wonder…for that long?"

"What was I supposed to do, come up for a fist bump and say, 'hey remember me, I'm the asshole that ran you out of town'. Besides, I needed the time to think"

"You came over anyway…calm…as if nothing horrible had ever happened between us"

He cleaned his plate and thought about it for a moment. "I was considering waiting for you to come up to me, because…I wanted to know what that would look like…what you would say, or how you'd do the…big reveal. Then, I was curious, really, really curious. What could bring you there…what were you going to say. Then I saw the world's biggest womanizing idiot come over to your table and you seemed uncomfortable."

"So you came over because you were jealous."

He mock scowled, "No. I was…trying to protect you?" he asked, a question more than a statement.

Her face turned up in a wide grin, "So you were jealous…OK…it's funny how pervasive this theme is, isn't it?"

A busboy slung his large grey bin onto the table behind them and gestured at their plates, gathering the items quickly before moving on to the next table. Cuddy grabbed her purse to pay the bill and House said, "I've got it. I wanted to thank you for helping me today, that's why we came to a high-end joint like this one!"

He hauled himself from his seat, paid the bill at the front, and they pushed through a crowd that was dammed up at the narrow entryway. "Leg hurts, need to walk," he gestured down the street.

"What's that smug grin for?" she asked when she noticed him watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"It's a great newsflash: 'Dr. Lisa Cuddy is roaming around the streets of the city at 3 am with an ex-con'. I think I'm a bad influence."

"Probably," she smiled, walking closer.

They arrived at the cold concrete foot bridge, the sounds of the interstate beneath them, surprisingly busy for the time of night. After crossing the bridge over the road, the Delaware River shimmered in front of them. They walked down to the water's edge, Cuddy, finding a seat on one of the stone benches that lined the edge of the walkway, and marveling at the way the lights from either side danced on the water. "Far cry from yesterday isn't it?" he asked, "Sorta prefer the sand and wave thing to the concrete and traffic thing."

She smiled, "This is still beautiful"

"It isn't beautiful. It's a crappy replacement for what we had on vacation. It's dirty down here and it smells funny"

"How unbelievably romantic," she mumbled.

"Wasn't meant to be romantic, I…needed to walk and I figured if I put you near the water I'd get to figure out if you still had your bikini on under there."

"You already saw what I have on under here"

He smirked, "I did. Damn, I'm good"

"You don't have to hide the fact that you can occasionally be nice. This is…kinda romantic"

He turned to look off behind her at a group of nearly a dozen, clearly drunken people, who burst into laughter as one of them vomited profusely onto a small patch of grass. House's shoulder shook as he chuckled, "Only a doctor would find dirty water and the sounds of retching to be a sweet gesture. So glad we're on the same page with that."

"The timing of the vomit was…pretty perfect…slip something into his drink to enhance this encounter too?"

"Absolutely"

"House…"

"Hmm?" he replied as he sat down next to her on the backless bench, bracing himself on his hands.

"Do you think you'll trust me…really trust me? Or…is the damage done?"

"Two weeks ago, if, someone else would have asked me that, I would have said, unequivocally, the damage is done, story over…but, if I were an honest man, I'd be able to admit to myself that, when it comes to you, anything can seem forgivable," he answered plainly.

"So…the damage…isn't done?"

"I don't hate this…thing…but, I think, I'll always be waiting for it to go wrong"

"Me too. On all of the above."

"You trust me?"

"More than I should"

"Most definitely"

"I…do not want to go back to Baltimore."

"You are welcome to come back here after we go up there. You have a few more weeks off of work. I'll have to get back to work…go up there for three days, if…you still haven't killed me, come along back for a while. I could use an unpaid intern."

"Thanks, but…that's not what I meant"

"OK…"

"I…hate it there. I hate my home, I hate my street, I hate my neighbor bringing me food I'll never eat"

"Your job?"

"I love my job. I'm good at my job. But, every morning, when I leave, I drive right over the spot where my daughter lost her life and I'm supposed to act like it doesn't mean anything. The…guilty look on my neighbor's face…I don't want her to feel guilty…it…just reminds me again and again of everything that happened."

"Why didn't you move to an apartment or something, just temporarily?"

"I don't know. I feel like…I can't leave there, but I don't want to be there either."

"Why would you feel like you can't leave?"

"She's still…there…or at least…it's where my last decent memories of her are. When I got to the hospital, she didn't look…"

Watching her face as she trailed off, he could tell there was a gruesome and horrific memory etched thoroughly into her brain. Her last vision of her child probably still the one that was most vivid and realistic, easily replacing the older, more pleasant, images until she could learn to move forward. He knew realistically what the sight of a body would have been, particularly one so small, that had been through an impact of such force. He also knew that revitalization efforts, if any, likely only worsened the little girl's appearance.

"I swear I can still see the bloodstains on the sidewalk"

"When we go up there, look for an apartment. Even if it's just something temporary, to get you away from that physical location. Seems to have helped you, being away from there for a few days."

"I can't leave her"

"She isn't there anymore…that bloodstain on the ground isn't her"

He heard Cuddy inhale sharply, the words painful, regardless of their inherent truth.

"I know it's not," she answered with stoic coolness.

The rowdy group behind them was growing closer, one of the men flinging a can that bounced harmlessly off of Cuddy's arm. Two of the partiers quickly apologized, although the one who actually tossed the can was so intoxicated, and laughing so hard, that he was unable to voice an apology, had he been so inclined. She waved them off with a shrug and turned back to House to continue talking and she was amazed by the look in his eye. He was so incredibly angry in that moment. She saw something feral there that she hadn't seen since they parted ways. She was initially almost frightened by that spark of rage that was there. Her fear quickly turned to amusement when she realized that rage, that indignation, was directed past her in one of the only blatantly protective gestures she had ever seen from him. There had been times, so few times, when she'd seen him defend her or behave protectively. She placed a hand on his elbow, flinching slightly at the thought that he may jerk away roughly, or turn that irritation on to her, and she said, in her calmest voice, "It was just an empty can…and he's just a drunk idiot."

House shifted his gaze back to her, his look still intense but less filled with rage.

"Let's go…" she said, pulling him up as the invaders tripped off in the other direction.

They walked back to the car in relative silence, Cuddy slipping behind the wheel to drive them back to his place. She was almost excited to see this spark of fury in him that had cut through his new, calmer exterior. "Did you just get all over-protective of me?"

"No"

"You did…you really did. "

He was looking out the window. "I've always looked out for you"

"Bullshit!" she all but hollered, laughing at the absurdity.

He turned toward her, smirking, "Take it as you like"

"You're going to try to sell bouts of jealousy as evidence of your protecting me?"

He looked like he was going to continue bantering until he caught the look in her eye, the sadness that was there cleverly hidden behind this more recent distraction.

"You wanted me to cut through the bullshit…to be honest with you?"

"Of course," she said, still laughing, assuming they were still discussing the incident that had just happened.

He barely touched her chin with one finger, for the briefest second to get her to look at him, "I can always tell how you feel. We leave Sunday for Baltimore".

Her laughter fell, the exaggerated revelry on her face discarded. A pang of disappointment gripped her, as she admitted, though only to herself, that part of her hoped he would suggest a delay in their return.

"OK," she nodded looking out the windshield.

"Let's enjoy tomorrow. Then, it's on to the stuff you really, really, don't want to deal with."


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N**-Thanks as always to all of those who encourage, it makes this so much more fulfilling. Sorry for the delay folks…we had a pet death in the family, and we are one of those families where the pets are part of the clan, and some things take precedence over my OCD :)

**Disclaimer**-I don't own the characters of House. This chapter contains adult content (marked)

* * *

><p>When they arrived back at Kate's place, it was very late, or perhaps more correctly, very early, as the sunrise began to color the sky. They slept long, enjoying a lazy afternoon, before heading into the bar for the evening. House was determined to make certain Cuddy enjoyed this last evening before heading back to her home in Baltimore.<p>

That night, the crowd in Kate's bar grew steadily. Cuddy sat on the end of the bar, near where she was seated two weeks earlier, and couldn't help but think of how things had changed so drastically in such a short amount of time. His earlier descriptions of his new job were correct: most people didn't really interact with him beyond requesting their drink, and exchanging the occasional crass comment, but he was quick and efficient, and the tips actually seemed pretty impressive.

The man who had approached her the first time she was there, the one House referred to has a 'womanizing idiot, was soon approaching and found a spot next to her. "I was hoping you'd come back," he said, as he looked down over her body.

"Were you?" she asked with disinterest.

"What can I get you to drink?"

"I'm already being taken care of," she answered.

"Don't be like that…" he answered.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm here with someone, so…no thanks"

House was working at the far end of the bar, and immediately felt the stirrings of irritation when he saw the man approach her, he practically bolted himself to the ground. All of his resolve was focused on proving to her that he could handle himself without acting out in a fiery rage. He concentrated on serving drinks and keeping lines moving down at the other end until he saw her waving her hand to get his attention. He worked his way down the bar to stand in front of her.

She signaled to him to lean down, which he did turning his ear down and toward her to hear what she had to say, his eyes looking directly at the womanizing idiot. She stood, her feet on the base of the stool, grabbed his chin and turned him toward her, placing a slow, full, kiss softly across his lips. His eyes opened momentarily with surprise until he closed them, allowing himself to enjoy the attention. "You have got to be kidding me…him?" the womanizing idiot asked.

Cuddy placed one hand against his face sweetly before settling back down onto the seat. The womanizing idiot mumbled his irritation as he left. House shook the surprise from his face and said, "I'm_ never_ one to complain…but what was that for?"

"I told him I was here with someone, he didn't believe me"

"Anyone else need to be informed of our relationship? I'm up for another gratuitous make-out session"

Kate all but jogged over to the spot directly next to House and leaned over the bar with a new drink, which she slid toward Cuddy, waiting expectantly. Cuddy said, "Yes Kate…"

"Well I saw your new tipping method…and…I was wondering what else I could get for you"

Cuddy laughed rolling her eyes. "If that's the case, I need off work early, boss, we're gonna head over to the strip club so I can watch her tip the strippers," House smirked.

The bar was really crowded that night, the band well known among the locals. When they finally took the small stage, a relative silence fell. They played their set, House contently listening while he worked, although few people came up for drinks while they played. During the final set, the singer gestured to Kate to come up. She sung with the band for two songs. Although she had definite talent, and the two singers sounded exceedingly good together, what struck Cuddy was not the quality of their sound but the apparent chemistry between the two women. The petite blond was smaller in stature but exuded energy and vitality in a way that made her appear bigger than everyone else around her.

House leaned on the bar near Cuddy. She asked, "Who's that?" pointing to the singer.

"Lucy. They play here once month"

"Kate and Lucy know each other long?"

"I was waiting for this question. Yes they have…and no…they haven't?"

"No they haven't what?"

"They haven't had sex, because that's what you're thinking"

"It is not"

"Yes it is"

"Well…they just have a lot of chemistry"

"There's only one couple more rumored to be sleeping together over the years that wasn't actually sleeping together. But, then again, I guess we ruined that by sleeping together."

"Kate, really seems to like her"

"The real reason Kate doesn't ever keep a girl around for longer than a day or two isn't the kid…it's her," he said pointing toward the stage. "But…_that _will never happen."

"I can't imagine Kate being too shy to ask someone out"

"Oh, she isn't. Lucy's straight. Don't know if you've noticed this from her pathetic drooling over your delectable ass, but Kate favors the straight ladies."

She turned her attention to the stage where the two women sang, so closely together, with nearly unparalleled intimacy. When the song was over, Lucy pulled Kate back up on stage for a hug before Kate could hop down to help behind the bar again.

Cuddy watched the two women, and couldn't help but see the similarities between the two women's situation and her relationship with House. At various times, either she or House had felt the reality of _something _ between them, usually one, or the other, was too concerned with destroying the balance and severing the tentative thread that held them together.

As the crowd began to thin, Lucy and Kate were chatting and laughing at the far end of the bar, the two friends obviously happy to be in the same space. House slipped onto the stool next to hers, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm sure you don't need me to tell you, don't you know everything, oh seer of seers?"

"You're obsessing on Kate's relationship, or lack thereof…"

"Thinking not obsessing"

"Please tell me you aren't turning into a meddler!"

"I'm not! Even if I were, I don't think there's anything I can do about it"

"Agreed. So why are you obsessing?"

"I'm not _obsessing_. I'm just thinking about it…about…how close that was to you and I"

Uncomfortable with the discussion, he looked away, relieved to see a patron come up to the bar for one last drink before closing.

When he was done serving the customer, he gestured to her to follow him behind the bar, grabbed her hand and lead her to the storeroom off of the kitchen. Closing the door, and then whispering closely he said, "It _has _been us. The only difference is the barriers that we put up, we were actually responsible for. Our dysfunction was of our own making."

She smiled and breathed a chuckle. "But," he continued with a hint of promise, "I was just thinking about how incredibly physically compatible we are…maybe we should reassure you by testing…and retesting, that compatibility…"

Before she could respond, he wrapped his arms around her, palming her ass with both hands, and forcing her up onto bins in the corner of the storeroom. Kissing her with reassurances that they were completely compatible in this way, he succeeded in reducing her to a panting mess in moments. She was eagerly tugging the shirt from her body when he stepped back, "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Come here," she demanded.

"I work here, Cuddy, what on earth are you thinking?"

"You work at the hospital, and that didn't stop us from screwing around in your office"

"Yea," he scoffed, adding sarcastically, "but I actually _value_ this job"

At that, he helped her smooth her clothing in a falsely chivalrous gesture, and took her hand to lead her out front again, carrying a package of stirrers as cover. When they returned to the front, the bar was finally clearing out for the night.

Frustration flooded Cuddy as she remembered the number of times he had done something like that while they were dating, his own little show of the control he had over her. As she sat down, the two exchanged a scandalous gaze, enjoying this new game, when Kate fluttered over, "Fuck you two are nauseating!" she teased. "I have to go run Luce back home, can you finish cleanup tonight? I'll handle paperwork and closeout tomorrow."

"If by 'running her home' you mean…"

"Shut up, you idiot," Kate interrupted.

House nodded his assent as the women left. Cuddy turned up the stereo and walked out through the bar, wiping down tables and pushing chairs to the places they belonged. His eyes were drawn to the gentle sway of her hips and the grace of her movement in time to the music. "I know what you're doing," he accused.

"I'd hope you'd understand the concept of closing up," she retorted.

"Not the closing, the seductive hip thing…you know what the seductive hip thing does to me"

"They do that on their own, they seem to go with me wherever I go"

"I've been watching you for years, I should have had my own nature show, 'Cuddy in the Wild' or something. I could have laid in the tall grass with binoculars and whispered completely obvious facts. Anyway…had I actually done that…you'd know there's 'normal' Cuddy hips, and 'look at me while I pull you into my web' Cuddy hips."

"I know you laid in the tall grass out back, I remember seeing the cane prints. It's not my fault you're so easily turned on"

"Easily turned on?"

"I can't even clean a table without you taking it as an overture"

"You can't clean a table without making it look like an overture"

"You are unbelievable!" she announced.

"I usually like it when you say that in more of a breathless, moany sort of voice…more used to that one."

"Are you?" she asked, tossing the washcloth onto the counter top and beckoning him to walk out to the front of the bar, his response one of feigned reservation.

She danced gracefully right in front of him as he was perched on the end of the stool, her hip grazing his knee. Maintaining his cool exterior he said, "I don't think you're supposed to touch me."

"You know of my blatant disregard for rules," she replied sarcastically.

He smiled at her response until her hands snaked around his hips, pulling him forward on the chair until he slid off. Her breasts, knees and hips all grazing against him with just enough force to be noticeable and completely alluring. She rose to her tiptoes and watched as his eyes fluttered shut and then abruptly smacked his face with her hand, giggling and walking away to finish straightening the chairs.

"Oh I see," he finally answered, still making an attempt at coolness.

"I respect you, this is evidence of that"

"Respect me...enough to be a complete tease?"

"I respect your devotion to your work, and the boundaries you have set…just like you always appreciated the boundaries I set at our old job…oh…wait…you didn't really, did you?"

His sneering gaze made her giggle with triumph as she continued to clean up. When she finally returned to the area behind the bar he pinned her against it, his arms on either side of her against the counter, withholding direct touch. "Do you have any idea, what I'm going to do to you when we get back to my place?"

Her face adopted a look of innocence as she asked, "What are you going to do to me?"

"I will make you beg…I'll get you to the edge so many damn times before I let you fall that you will agree to anything I want"

"Promises," she smirked up at him.

His head leaned toward hers slightly, just enough to brush his lips against her cheek, then her ear. She breathed a moan before she could stop herself. "Too easy," he mocked.

"I am?" she asked as she skimmed her knee up his inner thigh and was pleasantly surprised to hear him sigh a compulsory sigh. Their gaze locked and each moved closer, lips nearly touching. Each of them could feel the sensations of the other's exhalations, each moving the slightest bit, but unwilling to actually commit to the contact. The small pillow of air still between them, they stood, nearly kissing for several moments until she whispered, "is this fore-foreplay?"

"Kinda doubt you need that"

"Too bad you don't have the balls to find out for yourself."

"*"

His eyes flared as these teasing taunts always brought forward something dashing and lecherous in him that made her want him all the more. Carefully toeing the line between seduction and inhibition, she maintained the visage of shyness, but was unable to hide the spark in her eyes. When he didn't make a move, she carefully slipped out from under his arms to continue cleaning up the area.

Mind burning with ideas of how to continue, he found he couldn't concentrate on anything else. Walking through the building to check Cuddy's work, he casually checked the lock on the door in the hopes that she didn't notice.

"You are so damn hot for me," he bragged.

"Really?" she said coyly.

"I can tell by the way you're standing, by the way your fingers are brushing against your legs"

She unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, and pulled the zipper down part way, noticing that she could almost see the moment when his mouth ran dry. She reached her hand into her pants only slightly, "So…how would you tell, objectively, which one of us was more turned on?"

He walked in front of her so they could feel the heat emanating off of each other and feel the words literally being breathed onto their skin. "Objectively, I'd say we'd have to observe a few different things. I could look at your pupils, look for signs of perspiration. I think I'd have to try to evaluate your level or arousal more directly as well. Then, of course, the reactions to stimulation…the amount of time from initial encounter until climax would be a remarkably good indicator."

Pulling his face down to hers, she looked into his eyes before initiating a passionate kiss, and then pulled back and said, "I had to do a before and after comparison of pupil dilation"

"Of course," he nodded, before leaning down and running his tongue along the pulse point in her neck. "Pulse is clearly elevated."

He noticed the way she restrained herself when she wanted to reach her hand up to pull him closer before rethinking such a display of need. As he was checking her pulse point, she reached for his chest, walking her fingers along his shirt to the spot over his heart, and lingered there for a moment. Her other hand slipped down to the front of his jeans, noticing the heat and intensity of his erection build as she touched him. "Adequate tumescence to suggest arousal"

Silently admonishing himself, he pressed into her hands, the feeling of needing her becoming too difficult to ignore. Trying to regain control, he lifted her onto the cooler, lifting her hips to pull her jeans and panties off. "Lean back please," he stated calmly.

"I don't think so"

"If I'm going to adequately evaluate you, you'll have to cooperate. Now lean back please."

She felt a pang of embarrassment as he leaned forward to look at her so intimately that she thought she'd never been so exposed. After torturous minutes his fingers ran along her, feeling the accumulating wetness. "Definitely seeing signs of arousal here," he said in a gloating tone.

"You're not impartial," she claimed as she ran her fingers along her warmth and tipped her head back. He watched her judiciously, enjoying the scene before him while aching to be closer.

"Neither are you." He stepped out of his jeans and underwear, and moved against her, running the tip of his erection over her heat, causing them both to gasp. She tried almost immediately to get him inside her, to intensify their mutual pleasure.

He moved to the floor, his leg tired and sore but the rest of him needing the attention he craved. Pulling her down on top of him, his shirt still mostly on his body, he moved her to his lap and held her up high enough to tug her bra from her body and pull a nipple into his mouth. He was, much like in so many aspects of their lives, rough and demanding, although tempering his need with his desire to avoid hurting her. She hovered over him, skimming her entrance over his erection, drawing near-whimpers from his mouth, as they both desperately tried to remain cool.

"You want me so bad," he managed.

"Not nearly as badly as you want me, you're so damn hard the slightest extra move from me and you'll be done."

He smirked as he pulled her down onto him, their mutual state of arousal making the sensations overly intense. She sat down on him firmly as he used his arms to scoot back against the cooler so he could remain seated and have something to lean his back against. They had just begun their rhythm, staggered and rough when they heard the sounds of keys jingling and the front door open. House reached up and held his hand across her mouth when he heard Kate's voice speaking to her friend.

They could hear the two women walking around toward the stage, fortunately unable to see the couple tucked behind the bar. Cuddy's knee was situated uncomfortably, so she shifted forward, drawing a pleasured wince from him and she smirked victoriously, now placing a hand over his mouth. He twitched inside her, the previous tension now nearly unbearable and on her face was a look of obvious pleasure. "Sorry," he mouthed silently, obviously disingenuously.

Cuddy barely rocked forward, just enough to cause the slightest friction, the two of them now locked in a game of control. "Oops," she responded noiselessly.

He bit his lip, trying to focus on things other than the way she was wiggling, the way she was clenching and releasing her muscles rhythmically over him.

They could vaguely understand that Lucy returned for her purse. Their ears both perked when they heard mention of House's name. "I can't believe he's finally got a girl," Lucy said.

"It is amazing anyone puts up with his grouchy ass, takes a lot to look past that to see his inner cuddle-bug," Kate joked.

House scowled as Cuddy laughed silently at the way Kate referred to him.

"Hopefully she'll stick around, otherwise, you're the only one who will deal with him," Lucy added.

"I hope so, he hasn't gotten laid since…"

Cuddy listened to Kate's statement with great interest until House wrapped both hands around her face to cover her ears, and kissed her softly, deeply, just enough to distract her and prevent her from hearing any more of the information Kate was sharing with her friend. He was now painfully achingly aroused, the inability to move sufficiently to release the built up tension was becoming increasingly frustrating. They heard the two women walk toward the door, and Kate turned off the light near the front and shouted back into the room, "Don't forget to mop up when you're done, House," Kate shouted, her laughter disappearing as the door closed.

Cuddy's eyes grew wide with concern, "Oh my god, do you think she actually saw…"

He interrupted her with a now unbelievably urgent kiss as his hands tried to get her moving. When she didn't respond quickly enough he turned them over, "Don't care."

"I told you that you wanted me more," she moaned between kisses, his only response a grunt.

They moved frenetically, unable in that moment to care for the consequences of their actions, the only important thing their mutual satisfaction. They exploded together, moments later, stars in their eyes, gripping at each other, desperately trying to find a new manner or degree of closeness. He flopped over to her side, his gaze and intensity now faded. "You wanted me more, I still stand by that."

"You were the one unable to control your animal-like lust!" she accused, while stroking his arm sweetly, the bite gone from her voice and replaced with sated calmness.

"You forgot what it's like to play with a _real _man, that's all. You can't just tease indefinitely."

"I am sooo embarrassed," she finally said, burying her face against his shoulder.

"She didn't see anything"

"You sure"

"No, but I'm right, she just…knows"

"When's the last time you got laid, House?"

"Yesterday"

"No I mean…"

"I know what you mean," he interrupted, "Gentlemen don't kiss and tell"

She scoffed loudly, "Gentlemen…right…you need to stop trying to do this stuff in public places"

"Me? You totally instigated that"

"Bullshit," she laughed.

"And…I am a gentleman…do I not always make sure your needs are met?"

With a knowing and pleased look she nodded at him in agreement.

"I don't have the drug habit, high powered world-famous-doctor thing to keep me busy anymore, I need to find new types of excitement."

They fell into silence for a few moments until she sat up to reassemble her clothing. She offered her hand to pull him up and watched as he pulled his jeans back on, thinking to herself that she always loved seeing him in ways like this, doing the mundane things that people do, so human and ordinary, so vastly different from this almost mythical man so many people saw.

Setting aside her fears for a moment, she embraced him in a warm hug, eyes dotted with tears, "I don't want us to return to that hopeless unrequited love crap. Got it?"

A small grin appeared on his lips, "Got it"


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N**-Thanks for all of the reviews...hey anonymous reviewers, I didn't actually realize I was blocking you until yesterday, so, sorry about that! Itzaboo...so sorry to hear :(

**Disclaimer-**I don't own House or Cuddy

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><p>House woke with Cuddy wrapped around him in a clinging way that should have made him feel suffocated, but simply didn't. She purred against him, evoking pleasant memories from the past, and against his better judgment, hopes for the future. She smiled, her gaze filled with affection, although he could see the realization in her eyes that she was soon returning to a reality she would always be ill-prepared for. She considered, briefly, asking him if she could hide here in the world he had created for himself, perhaps indefinitely, but she knew he would never allow her to avoid this in that way.<p>

Kate was nowhere to be found that morning, likely finding her away into another bed, in another house, that she'd likely never find her way into again. House left Kate a brief note and they got into Cuddy's car to begin the two hour drive to Baltimore. During the entire drive, she realized the brevity of two hours, and wished to herself that some unforeseen circumstance would reroute them away for just a few days more. No such circumstance arose.

She pulled into the driveway, cringing as she passed the curb, certain that he had wanted her to be the one that actually drove them to the home, to put that responsibility squarely on her shoulders. Clicking the button to open the garage, she eased the car into its spot and they stepped out. She reached for the button to close the garage door and saw the shadows of a person approaching. House watched her sigh, as she put on the face of a much happier, more welcoming person. She walked out to the edge of the garage to meet the old woman. Nearly the perfect representation of a retired teacher, the woman had to be in her seventies, hair tightly pulled back, thin wire glasses across her face, with an aura of kindness. "Lisa, dear, how have you been? I haven't seen you."

"Vacation," Cuddy answered sweetly, her jaw clenching almost imperceptibly as she wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

"Brought back a souvenir?" she asked, gesturing toward House.

"Oh…umm, we have known each other a long time, this is Greg."

She walked over promptly to shake his hand, which he obliged, but hesitantly, not wanting to upset or irritate Cuddy's clearly overloaded mind.

"Would you like to come for dinner this evening, you and your friend?"

"Oh we can't, I'm sorry, I…have a lot to do. I'm only here a few days and he's here to help me catch up with work, and then I'm going away for a little while longer. I think…"

House ignored most of the conversation, his eyes moving around the room to the neatly organized gardening supplies, and a lawn mower that looked as if it had only been used once or twice. Everything was, of course, perfectly in place. Tucked along the far edge of the garage, a small purple bicycle with training wheels still attached sat, likely in the same place the owner had left it. This small reminder of things missed brought forth a myriad of feelings, not the least of which was the understanding that he hadn't been there when she acquired that bike. His own mental picture of her remained as it was when last he'd seen her 3 years prior.

"Greg," the old woman called from the front, "it was really nice meeting you, if this young lady's off at work as usual, and you need anything, you just let me know. "

He nodded and rigidly smiled at her as she leaned in to hug Cuddy, "You do look better than you have, dear. I hope you're doing OK."

"I am, don't worry, I'm doing just fine."

She couldn't suppress the relieved sigh as the garage door shut, and she took him to the door of her home. As she walked past him he said, questioningly, "Young lady?"

She smiled dutifully, "Questioning the 'young' or the 'lady'?"

"Given that I know how old you are, coupled with our recent activities, I'm going to say both"

She smacked his arm before unlocking the door. "Here we are," she said with exaggerated happiness. He walked into the kitchen, which was, of course, spotlessly clean, except for some evidence of dust gathering during her absence.

He was immediately aware of the fact that the place just smelled of Cuddy. It was exactly that same smell: clean, fruity and homey, as he had always remembered from the places she lived. He could always smell that smell on his clothes after he left her place and remembered it fondly, for the most part. After their breakup, he could still remember removing his clothes from the bag he had brought back, and feeling the sickening feeling of knowing he'd no longer find his clothes covered in that scent. Something so comfortable and familiar became a painful reminder of things lost.

After spending some time reacquainting, he felt content, both at his position in her life for the time being, and at the realization that she trusted him enough to bring him back into her home again. He never really thought he'd be 'here' again, even if her home wasn't exactly where he had expected it would be.

"Ready for the tour?" she asked.

Off of the large, eat-in kitchen, there was an ample living room. Ample, and empty. There was a sofa and loveseat, a coffee table, a bench with a TV and two large bookcases that made up the majority of the room. There were no pictures on the wall. Even the ones that he had seen adorning her walls for years were oddly absent. He wondered if they were simply never hung up after she moved, but noted nails and picture hangers still attached to the walls. Off to the corner, an item that made his heart skip. A piano, though not his own, was nestled in the corner. There wasn't a single reminder of Rachel in this room, which he found strange, given that she still seemed to feel Rachel was "here."

She motioned to a small laundry/powder room and took him up a flight of stairs to the bedrooms. At the top of the stairs there was a large master suite. Which she welcomed him into, forcing a flirtatious gaze. "Here's our room."

He set his bag on the chest at the end of the bed and looked around. Although the furnishings were different, he could have easily picked this bedroom out of the proverbial lineup, as hers. This room was also completely free of pictures, or really any identifying objects. The very large walk-in closet was, in full Cuddy style, overfilled with clothes. The room was delicate and feminine but, like the rest of the house, impersonal. There was a large adjoining bathroom, and at the end of the hall, a room that was clearly an office. She walked down to the office, bypassing another bathroom, and a room with a closed door, which he could only assume was Rachel's. She looked through a few items on the desk while he looked around this room, decorated with the same impersonal, professional and tidy style as the rest of the house. "That her room?" House asked, pointing at the closed door with cane.

"Yes," she sighed.

"We gonna go in?"

"Not today, please?"

He looked away without an answer, vaguely staring at the door.

"I'll take you in tomorrow, OK?" she negotiated, "Just stay out of there until then. Give me a little time to get back here before you want to go delving into my psyche."

"OK," he agreed. "I'm not...delving," he said somewhat defensively, "I was curious. Can I…see a picture or…"

She looked down at the desk, drumming her fingers nervously before picking up her phone. She pulled up a picture Rachel and handed him the phone. He tilted his head and looked back and forth from her to the photo. "Funny, when she makes that face she looks like you," he said, realizing with painful clarity that he had used the present tense.

"People said that a lot," she smiled a bit, "the ones that knew were always surprised she was adopted."

Since returning to this place he could feel the pall of sadness settle back over her. It wasn't as intense or disconnected, but her mood was clearly hurt and heavy. He wanted to avoid pushing her too quickly, and he certainly didn't want to destroy the connection they had been steadily rebuilding. "I couldn't picture her a few years older, I needed to see," he said softly to her. "Thank you," he added with sincerity.

They stood awkwardly for a few minutes, neither speaking. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Come on, I'll heat up something to eat," she said, taking his hand, gently rubbing her thumb down the back of it, and leading him downstairs. She heated food from the freezer in the microwave, closing her eyes, and finding a relaxed smile creep across her face as she heard him tinkering at the piano.

"Is this a new method of torment you designed just for me?" he asked, as she carried their food into the living room.

"It's not that bad, try it. You might like it," she said, holding out his plate.

"Not the food, woman! This piano, it's so wrong!"

"It is?"

"Listen," he said his fingers flying up a scale.

"What am I hearing?"

"It's out of tune, it's terrible! I took the liberty of calling someone to come out to tune it. He'll be here in an hour, and he'll probably charge you an exorbitant amount since it's an emergency call."

"OK," she shrugged, poking at her lunch.

"You eat microwave meals a lot?"

"Yea, who am I cooking for?" she added without affect.

He moved over to the sofa, sitting next to her and eating his food. "So, are you going to take me to see your new workplace, so I can behold the land you now rule with iron cleavage?"

"If you want"

"Why's it so…sterile in here?"

"It's not 'sterile'"

"I'd operate in here, Cuddy. It's…sorta creepy"

She groaned, "You want to talk about this now?"

"When is a good time exactly? Save it for pillow talk…"

"I was having trouble…letting go. Everywhere I looked, she was there. The juice stain on my sofa, marker on my coffee table, the pictures of her smiling down at me. I couldn't take it. I thought…stupidly…that maybe if I got rid of some stuff, I would be able to separate myself a bit"

"How'd that go?"

"I went to go find you…which seems to have turned out pretty well, but probably wasn't the greatest display of sanity"

When the doorbell rang, Cuddy was surprised to find an actual piano tuner standing on the other side. "I understand you have an emergency?"

She turned to House with disbelief, waving the piano tuner into the room.

"What? I told you I called one," he said, honestly surprised that she had thought he was joking.

House watched the piano tuner the entire time he worked, never removing his attentive gaze from the task at hand. When the tuner was finished, House paid him before Cuddy showed him to the door. As she turned back into the room, she found House hugging the top of the piano, his cheek pressed against the top. He took his seat on the bench, looking over the instrument with the utmost admiration before he began to play. She cleaned up their lunch dishes while enjoying the simplicity of listening to music, something that had happened relatively few times during their time together, or at least too few for her liking. She sat on the sofa for hours, after getting her laptop from the office and working through a few emails, just listening to him. In the moments when she watched him, the look of sheer joy on his face brought some actual comfort to the dull ache that seemed to emanate from her center.

After several hours, she closed the lid of the laptop and considered approaching him. At this point, if he decided that working through all of the pain and grief with her wasn't worth it, she wasn't sure how she'd handle it. Memories replayed themselves in her head, reminding her why placing her trust, and in a very real way, her heart, in his hands was dangerous… As a person nearly incapable of truly leaning on someone, it was initially very difficult to accept that she needed him. Once the choice was made and the connection established, she was unwilling to turn back. She walked behind him cautiously, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and laying her hands against his chest. He didn't lurch away, or grow cold under her touch. His left hand reached up and held onto the place where her two hands met on his chest, while his right hand kept playing.

He slipped into a song that Rachel had always loved; one that made her dance with joy. Cuddy remembered the first time he played it. The way Rachel stood up and began running between the furniture at his apartment, hands swinging through the air nearly in line with the rhythm. She remembered the way his face sneered at the distraction as he looked down over the girl. The ironic thing about his seeming displeasure, was that after that day he'd always play it if Rachel were there and each time she reacted with equal enthusiasm. Her eyes welled with tears as she listened to the song and she could almost see the girl running through the room swinging her arms.

Cuddy tried to pull back, still feeling, even after all that they shared, that she should hide outright displays of emotion from him for fear of his response. He held her hands tighter to his chest until she patted him a few times with one of her hands, signaling that she wanted to be released from his grasp. He turned on the bench to face away from the piano, now facing her, and laying his head against her stomach, wrapping his arms around her hips to hold her close. She hesitated in the embrace before taking his head and pulling it tightly against her. "Did you get rid of all of your furniture?" he asked.

"No. Storage. This is all rented. Except the piano, that was too much of a pain to move."

"Thank you for letting me play"

"Thank you for coming back here with me"

"I just did it for the sex"

"Really, then why'd you reject me when I initially made a pass at you?" she said, her voice somewhat teasing.

He looked up at her, the temporary moment of levity already gone, "I didn't reject _you_…I rejected having sex with you at that moment. There's a huge difference."

"I'm tired. Let's go to bed," she suggested, feeling unwilling to discuss anything further that night.

She woke in the middle of the night. House was gone from her bed and she listened for the sounds of the piano but didn't find them. This reminded her of too many nights since Rachel died, when the house was cold and empty and horribly silent. Even at night, when Rachel would sleep, Cuddy could always sense her presence. She missed the subtle sound of Rachel's snore, the shuffle of covers when she'd roll around in her bed, and just the feeling of having her there in the home.

Her ache intensified at the thought that she may be alone again, and she reproached herself for missing him at the slightest thought that he might be gone. As she walked to her bathroom, she noticed that her bedroom door was slightly ajar, and she saw a faint light in the hallway. Her sadness and concern rushed from her body, replaced by the rapidly rising swell of rage when she realized the light was coming from Rachel's room.

She charged over to the room, hands balled in her fists, flung open the door, eyes closed with frustration. Despite the anger gathering in her throat, the tight constriction that made her feel as if she couldn't speak, she screamed, "You insensitive bastard, you couldn't wait a few damn hours, you just had to have all of the answers to your little mystery solved tonight? I don't know why I even thought…"

Her voice trailed off when she finally opened her eyes, and their gaze met as he looked up from his spot on the floor. Sitting in the corner, in a pile of Rachel's things, he looked strangely small, one arm draped casually across a bent knee, hand loosely holding a book, his eyes red and damp.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N-** Really heard a lot back from people on the last chapter, that was really exciting. This chapter begins a few minutes earlier than the end of the last, so you can see how House got to that point in the story.**  
><strong>

Thanks Jess for catching my "doh's" :)

**Disclaimer**- Don't own 'em

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><p>When House woke at three am, he initially tried to go back to sleep. Cuddy was snoring, feeling warm and inviting next to him, but he couldn't stop staring at the door. He couldn't stop thinking about Rachel and her room. It was after midnight, technically 'tomorrow', he told himself as justification for what he knew he was about to do.<p>

When they began talking two weeks earlier, it was simple to distance himself from his feelings for a child he didn't even know anymore. Particularly after seeing a picture, he became overwhelmed with interest about her and who she had become in her last few years. He hoped that Cuddy hadn't cleaned out that room as she had all of the others. When he opened the door he was not disappointed. The room was a storage space for all of the little girl's things. There were pictures hung on the wall and piled on a little desk, obviously gathered from all over the house and deposited in that one room. Piles of toys lined the walls, books filled the shelves, and her bed was covered with stuffed animals. The dresser and closet still held all of her clothes, shoes lined neatly on a low shelf next to the door. Her furniture was white and diminutive, perfect for a girl of her size.

So many strange things struck him, things he knew he should know. Rachel's clothes were so much bigger than he remembered. Of course, he knew that children grew, but it was such a strange humanizing element that for some reason he didn't consider. Her toys were different, almost entirely, except for some of the stuffed animals that he remembered. Plastic blocks and wooden puzzles were replaced with dolls, toy makeup and a basketball. A few of the blankets seemed the same too, particularly the one he used to steal from her because it was large and had a worn, soft feeling. He remembered her eyeing him suspiciously when he would fling it over himself, as he sat on the sofa. She'd put her hands on her hips, so much like a little Cuddy, and say, "That's _MY_ blanket. _You _are too big for that blanket!"

He'd never give in, refusing to cave like an evil older brother who probably just picked up the blanket to vex her in the first place. He'd distract her or bribe her to keep the blanket. One night she angrily climbed underneath it with him, telling him, with an admonishing wag of her finger that he had to, "Learn to share and do not act bratty."

He also remembered telling her that she was "really bossy, like Mommy," and she responded, "I am," with absolute certainty and no hint of remorse.

He was cautious of human contact by nature, occasionally, repulsed by it, but Rachel napping next to him terrified him. He wanted to make sure there wasn't the slightest hint of impropriety. His other, more pressing, concern was what he would do if Rachel actually became attached to him. What if she developed feelings for him, and then wanted to express those feelings? She was thirty pounds of his worst fears, with bright, curious and observant eyes, and a complete lack of inhibition when it came to self-expression. Later, he realized his unwillingness to share Cuddy, even with a child, was largely unfounded. While Rachel took time, she didn't seem to take away from Cuddy's ability to care for him. He often marveled about how someone as self-assured and intelligent as Cuddy could find it in her heart to love someone so unlovable and yet, for a fleeting moment, he found himself repeatedly invited into her life, her home, her bed and her arms.

The night that he waited, as Rachel slept there on the sofa, Cuddy walked in after a hellish day and flopped onto the chair, looking over at him, taking in the scene for only a split second, before acting as if nothing whatsoever was going on. They talked about their day for a few moments, she asked how Rachel behaved for him that evening, acting all the while as if the little girl wasn't sleeping right there. Cuddy stood, kissed his forehead, picked up the little girl wrapped in the blanket and carried her to bed. He appreciated the way she didn't overreact, or over-analyze the situation. He knew it was probably because she wanted to avoid a negative reaction from him, but even at that, it showed how well she knew him and how she respected his limitations, at least some of the time.

Years later, after relapse and breakup, flight and prison, years of growth and an untimely death, he sat on Rachel's floor. His favorite of her blankets rolled under his knee, he read one of the books he most enjoyed reading to her. He read to her often. It was a safe way of being near her, of entertaining and interacting that required very little thought from him. It was harder to screw up when someone else wrote the words.

He read the words of the book that at one time he had completely memorized. As the words came flooding back, so did the associated memories, and he felt the tears begin to well in his eyes. He, the consummate heartless bastard, was sad that he missed out on those years after everything went so terribly wrong. Sad that he hadn't been there for Cuddy when everything happened to her daughter, regretting that he didn't try immediately after he relapsed to win her heart again, to show her he could be a better man. Why didn't he try to prove to her that he had grown while he was drug-free, instead of verifying that all of her worst fears were entirely founded? Why couldn't he at least have been the evil big brother figure to Rachel?

He thought then that there must have been some accuracy in Cuddy's belief that, had they not been run out of town by him and his actions, perhaps her daughter would still be alive. He could feel himself plummeting into self-loathing, his actions unforgivable, when the door flew open. Cuddy was in the grips of all-out rage, "You insensitive bastard, you couldn't wait a few damn hours, you just had to have all of the answers to your little mystery solved immediately? I don't know why I even thought…"

Her voice trailed off when she looked at him, and saw, not a cold, calculating investigator, but a man saddened by the loss of something he never wanted in the first place. Her fists unclenched, shoulders dropped and head tilted sympathetically to one side, as she breathed in deeply, feeling less violated. "I asked you to wait," she stated more calmly.

"I know. I just…wanted to be here"

"OK," she said, as she sunk down onto her knees about a foot in away from him. "You…actually care…"

"I know. I don't have the right to"

"The right?"

"I'm not the one who is supposed to be falling apart. I'm not the one who's supposed to be sitting up in the middle of the night in this room missing her. I'm supposed to be the detached, calm one who can give you impartial advice and cold lashes of insight. It wasn't like I was there for her. Or you. I destroyed her home, needlessly put her mother through hell," he said, trying to ignore the tears waiting in his eyes.

Cuddy listened, sitting on her knees, her hands resting on top of her legs. A pang of guilt swept over her when she realized she had dismissed even the thought that he had deeper feelings for the child. Perhaps on some level she really did reduce him to a monster with a limp.

"House…I'm sorry…" she began, when he lifted his head from his hand and screamed in response, "Are you _really_ that much of a fucking moron, that you feel you should…" he stopped, holding out a hand and extending all of his fingers fully, the other hand moving to his forehead to think. "Wait…just wait…that's…not what I mean. You...should _not_ have to apologize to me. I did this."

She wasn't angry over his comments, and her anger about his intrusion in the room was rapidly fading. She understood why he was lashing out, that for him, anger was easier than sadness. She reached out and put one hand on his ankle, "I'm sorry that I didn't consider the fact that this might be hard for you too."

He looked up at her quickly, as she waited for the next jab, fully prepared to take the brunt of his pain, coated safely in anger, "It shouldn't be," he said, softly laying his head down into the bend of his arm.

Cuddy saw the book, and for some reason, the sight of him holding that book, holding the physical manifestation of that memory, in his hand, broke her heart all over again. He waited patiently for her wrath, for her to tell him that he was a selfish bastard, that he caused them nothing but pain and heartache, at that point, he almost wanted her to lash out at him, to cause him the pain he felt he deserved. She scooted forward on her knees along the floor until she was closer to him. "It _should _be. Do you honestly think that if you are sad, it takes away from my ability to grieve? One thing you and I have proven time and again, is that the pool of sorrow is pretty much bottomless."

He chuckled bitterly, thumping his head back against the wall. "I… missed out on so much."

"I had a lot more time with her than you did. She was here…such a short while…" Cuddy's tears were streaming down her face, feeling the unending ache of missing her child, and seeing the pain it caused him expounded on that sadness. "In some way…god, it's so weird…in some way, it actually makes me feel better that you miss her. Isn't that completely messed up? Why…didn't you let me know…why didn't you tell me that were upset…or…saddened…"

"I…don't know if I knew"

"You didn't know?"

"The last two weeks…have been about you and your loss. At least for me. What happened to Rachel was the catalyst, sure. But, being here, seeing her picture, it made it all real. Everything with us happened so fast. Years of wanting and then suddenly we were together. I was the guy, dating my boss, who had a kid. And then you were sick and I fucked up and it was over. Then just to seal the deal, I made sure I fucked up a few more times. Like a flash. I think…part of me tried to remove myself from that memory…because it hurt so bad. I tried to turn it into a bad dream, or maybe someone else's reality that I read about once."

"I…feel like that a lot. I wish it was a movie, or a story I read."

"Having her…having…you…was this tiny peek into what I could have had if I wasn't so fucked up. I… liked her yelling at me when I acted like an ass, or smirking at me when she was getting away with murder. I spent the whole time, trying not to let myself get drawn in, because…if I didn't get drawn in, I wouldn't get hurt. I wouldn't have to deal with the feelings. So I fought it all that time and ended up hurt anyway. My whole grand plan…"

"I know. I…do that shit too. I think I can engineer the outcome…you think you can mastermind it…"

"All of that effort to avoid pain, and right now…it…hurts so bad"

"There are times...when I literally don't know what to do in the next minute. When the pain and the emptiness are so bad, that, I really don't know if I can keep going. And, somehow...I do. At first, I'll admit it, there were times when I wished I _wouldn't_ keep going."

"I should be honest with you...I think…I loved that kid. At least as much as I'm able. I don't even know if you can call that love. I don't know why I'm admitting that now because there isn't even a fucking point to it."

He glanced over to see the paths of tears trailing down her face, her skin flushed, her shoulders shaking softly with grief. "I'm… I'm not trying to hurt you…" he muttered.

"Thank you," she began through her tears, "thank you for telling me that, because…there is a point. It matters to me. Your feelings, for her, or otherwise, do actually matter to me."

A few tears slinked down his face and despite the sorrow he felt, he was relieved that she wasn't angry with him for this admission. It felt strangely good to hear her say his feelings mattered to her.

She laughed a laugh that wasn't happy or bitter, but sounded like sheer relief. He regarded her with some confusion, wondering if, perhaps, she had finally snapped completely under the weight of her pain. "I have felt…so alone…" she stopped, shaking her head with disbelief, trying to wipe the dampness from her face with the back of her hand. "Don't get me wrong…just…having you…around, acting like you, it helped. All of those times I tried to hide from you, I wished you'd just leave me alone for ten minutes, and then suddenly the entire world's on its head and you are the only one I want near me. The one person I thought was least likely to make me feel better, was the only one who did."

"You know that means you're seriously fucked up, right?" he joked, the two of them managing a half-hearted laugh.

"All of these people, telling me how great she was, and how special, it just…means something different from you. You …didn't want to like her. You know I didn't expect that from you, so you aren't telling me that to meet my expectations. You, mean it, and feel it, completely against your will."

He half smiled at her, still waiting for the tables to turn, for the anger to come. When it didn't come, he felt her move closer and kiss him tenderly. All of their games of control and careful self-monitoring were cast aside to exchange some small measure of mutual understanding. Each craving the comfort inherent in the other. The moment was filled with sighs and gentle caresses and the salty taste of tears that could have easily come from either of them. He pulled her sideways onto his lap, and dropped his head onto her shoulder, as she mirrored the gesture.

"What did she...like to do?" he asked tentatively.

Cuddy cleared her throat, "She…was learning to play the violin. It was…awful," she laughed. "This little violin, scratchy and high pitched, and I loved it. I bought her the damn piano because she wanted it so badly and she decided she had to play the violin. She really liked basketball. She wanted to do gymnastics, her best friend is in gymnastics…I was worried about her getting hurt…so…I didn't let her. That was our last big fight. She was...so, unbelievably stubborn. She did really well in school, better than I had ever hoped, and yet barely passed handwriting. And…she was so excited when she got her first bike…she loved her bike."

"I'm sorry I came in here without you…before you wanted me too. I know you didn't want me in here."

She scooted down off of his lap so her legs were still across him, but not putting any unnecessary pressure on his leg.

"Cuddy…this room…you can't leave it like this forever," he said gently.

"I know"

"When's the last time you were in here?"

"When I took everything out of the rest of the house, it's been…a couple of months"

"Yea, I figured. I think…we need to look through this"

"I know"

"I'm not saying right now. But…soon"

"OK"

"I felt really alone too, these past few years," he said suddenly, sounding as if he had to say it immediately, before his inner censor could prevent him from sharing the thought.

She looked at him with great surprise, not at the fact that he felt lonely, but at the fact he admitted feeling that way. "I'm sorry, House…"

"I…don't want to be miserable anymore…"

"Me neither"

They were both completely exhausted, from lack of sleep, from the outpouring of emotion, and from the sheer strain of making oneself so vulnerable. The burden of words unsaid between them now somewhat lessened, she stood up, carefully avoiding his bad leg, moved the stuffed animals from the twin bed, and pulled back the sheets. She pushed herself tightly against the wall, leaving plenty of space for him and patted the place where she felt he belonged. When he sat down on the bed she pulled his shirt from his body before removing her own, just so she could feel the warmth of his skin against her. The two adults, him with his long legs jutting out at the bottom of the bed, her half draped over him so they'd have enough room, nestled in and fell into a deep sleep under a purple fairy comforter.

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><p><strong>AN 2**-it's hard to write growth and change and keep characters believable. Hopefully this still rings true. May miss a day posting Saturday or Sunday...we'll see. Thanks for reading everyone!


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N**- I know these chapters have been a little sad, but couldn't tell the story without getting through the tough times. Thanks, as always, to all of you for doing this with me!

**Disclaimer-** I Don't own House or Cuddy.

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><p>House's phone rang from the other bedroom while they were still asleep in Rachel's bed. Cuddy groaned, "That your phone?"<p>

"Probably Kate…or…Altland…let it go," he mumbled against her collarbone.

"If it's Kate, she might send a search party to make sure you're alright," Cuddy said, as she twisted to get out of bed and ran for his phone.

"Hey stud muffin," Kate said when she heard his voice, "How's the lovely Lisa?"

"Oh she is…so lovely," he laughed, as he watched Cuddy look in the mirror at her hair, which was an interesting combination of flat spots and frizzy areas.

"You guys made it OK?"

"Obviously"

"How's she feeling, she reacting OK to being back home?"

"Sure"

"You doing OK with all of this? It's an awful lot of caring compassion for you"

"Yup"

"Is she there?"

"Yup"

"I'm not meddling, just thought I'd check in quick, see how you are"

"You're not meddling? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong"

"I don't think you can just turn off your inner meddler…what's going on?" he asked suspiciously.

He could hear a few different voices giggling in the background. "Multiple distractions…nice, what happened?" he asked.

"Just some friends who came to spend time with me so I'm not lonely without you. I asked one of them not to shave her legs so I can sleep with something painfully abrasive," she replied dryly.

"How's Lucy?"

"She's fine… Good news, she's getting married in a few months. Cool, huh?"

"That…sucks…"

"It doesn't 'suck' it's great, I'm gonna be in the wedding. I'll take you and Lisa as my dates so you can see my fine ass in a hideous baby blue dress"

"Have you ever even asked her?"

"Asked her what?"

"If she likes knitting… Dumbass, asked her if…she's interested in a little game of beaver tag"

"Oh…wow…wait, am I speaking to the pot, or the kettle?"

"I'm just curious if you've…ruled out all possibilities prior to surrender"

"You know that will never work as well as I do"

"I know you are a coward"

"Look, I am so completely excited, that you are actually getting some ass, with the girl you wanted all along, that's great…even if that means you're getting ass in my fucking bar, which is just hugely disrespectful, by the way," she laughed, "But hell, I'd do it too, so why judge. I think this is what you need. My situation is completely different. If you weren't so busy lovin up your girl, you'd agree with me. Now, my fun is currently waiting for me in the other room, so I'm gonna go."

"Fine"

"House, you have what you want. I'm happy for you. I want my life, the way I'm living it. I'm happy"

"So...you're a coward and a liar"

"I'm not gonna ruin my friendship with her so you can fully dissect my situation. Don't love ya that much, House," she said before hanging up.

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><p>He found Cuddy in the bath, and walked in, sitting on the counter by the sink facing the tub. He stared off in the distance.<p>

"You're uncomfortable about last night, aren't you?" Cuddy asked nervously, keeping her gaze away from his and feeling his complete lack of ease.

"No"

"You're quiet, you're thinking, so…do I start to worry now?"

"I just woke up!"

"I've known you a long time. If you're having second thoughts, or if something's on your mind, you should just tell me before I start trying to figure out what it is on my own. What's going on?" she asked, looking at him.

His expression was contemplative and distant, his own mind replaying his feelings about the ways he felt in the past when confronted with the possibility of Cuddy with someone else. He remembered, keenly, the pang of jealousy at her merely dating, the deep ache of hearing of her engagement, the panicked thoughts of her, pregnant with another man's baby. His center seized painfully when his mind traveled to thoughts of her whispering words of love that weren't meant for him. Her question finally hit his brain, and he responded, "Kate's…acting like an idiot."

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes," he said, watching her intently. "I've been honest about everything else, seems stupid to lie about something like that at this point."

He tried to memorize everything about the way she looked in that moment. He watched the slight twitch in her jaw as she thought nervously. How her narrow wrists bent gracefully, working in conjunction with her thin fingers to grasp bottles or work up suds on a washcloth. The way her long, well-defined legs stretched out of the water to be attended to before they sunk back under the surface again.

Determined not to allow these moments to go unlearned, he made careful mental note to chronicle all things Cuddy. She looked over to speak and he launched a preemptive verbal strike, "So, if I follow your logic, you're quiet does that mean you're uncomfortable?"

"No, I'm just…a little overwhelmed. And worried. About going through everything in her room. How do I decide what I keep, and what I get rid of? I…hear her voice in my head with less and less clarity as time passes. So, if I get rid of stuff…"

"So, you put away all of her stuff, because you feel like you can't let go, but you're afraid of actually letting go?"

"That's about right," she answered, running her fingers along a bottle of shampoo.

She drained the water from the tub and turned on the shower to rinse the remaining soap from her body. He had been here before, in a time and place where he was granted permission to be so near her, to witness her unguarded. Such access was given and whisked away before he even appreciated it. His mind thundered with thoughts that he desperately wanted to stop: she's going to leave, she's going to die, it's all…far too late.

He knew _he_ wasn't prepared for Rachel's death, how could he possibly have been? Far more frightening was the fact that Cuddy wasn't prepared for her death. The woman who made sure the child's stomach was filled, clothes were clean, education was provided…the woman who made sure she was hugged, and loved…and made all of these things happen while balancing work and single parenthood, had no idea either. She hadn't the slightest inkling when she bustled out of their home that morning, placing Rachel safely in the care of her elderly neighbor before an ordinary day at school. One that she assumed would end with a chat over dinner about the routine happenings of a regular day, and instead ended in a hospital, and ultimately, a morgue.

"I really look that good, huh?" she quipped, trying to break the uncomfortable silence. "House," she asked, concerned by his complete silence and seeming disconnect.

He looked up, answering her with his eyes only. "Are you ok?" she asked.

He barely shook his head 'yes'. His mind kept booming with thoughts of loss, with reminders of the mercurial nature of feelings, of relationships. Years ago, or even months ago he would have run, desperate to protect himself, but he simply couldn't. Recent events reminded him that chances at contentment were few, opportunities for deeper connections, even fewer. He couldn't think of how to keep it, how to keep…her, but knew without a doubt that he needed her more than he did before.

She wrapped one towel around her hair, another around her body and walked over to him, "Are you having an absence seizure?" she asked, trying to get a smile from him.

The slightest smirk crossed his lips before he shook his head 'no'.

"Great…" she said, sounding very sarcastic, "then, could you…maybe…tell me what's going on?" The sarcasm left her voice, "Seriously, you're making me really nervous."

Of all of his more troublesome moods: jealous, combative, depressive...the one that concerned her most was inscrutable House. She had no idea what he was thinking in that moment, and there were no guarantees he would tell her.

He reached his hands up to her sides, barely touching the cloth of the towel. He kissed her with gentle brevity and walked her into her room, directing her to sit on the bed. "Oh-kay" she drew out, "Is this…some sort of weird sex thing?"

He pursed his lips with thought before shaking his head 'no'. Placing his finger along her lips to silence her questions, he sat next to her on the bed facing her, "What do I have to do…to know you'll be here next year?" he said, in a barely audible tone.

Her mouth opened, searching for words her mind hadn't found yet. "Is that what you're thinking about?"

He shrugged.

"I can't…promise nothing bad will happen," she said, with the sad certainty of a woman who had learned that lesson all too recently. "I told Rachel hundreds of times not to worry…that it would be OK. Sometimes, it's not OK."

He looked down, brushing his hand along her side as he wondered if there was any response that would make him feel better. "I do, however," she added, cupping his cheek in her hand, "promise that I won't leave this lightly. I…won't give up unless you give me a damn good reason"

"I'll always wonder if each time is our last time. If…when I leave your place, it may be the last time I'm allowed inside those walls with you"

"There are no guarantees. Before all of this, I would have told you…that attitude is pessimistic…that it's…pointless to even worry about it. Now, I don't know. Maybe…it's best to think each time may be the last you see someone. Not, to worry about it, but…just to appreciate what you have, while you have it."

His face dropped down toward the ground until she lifted it back up, "Not...listen to me, House," she waited until he met her gaze, "Not because I'll leave, but because you just don't know what's coming next."

"And if I prove to both of us that I'm still the world's most fucked up person?"

"Then I promise we'll at least try to work things out. I won't forget all you've done for me these past few weeks. Unless…you put me in harm's way again. If you _ever _pull any kind of bullshit like that on me again…any assault, or attempted homicide by vehicle, or…whatever you want to call it…I'll feed you your testicles on a paper plate before the dust settles… We clear?"

He smiled at her feistiness, pleased to finally hear her deliver the type of threat he'd been waiting for since their reunion. "Perfectly"

* * *

><p>When he finished his shower, Cuddy's place was remarkably silent. He dressed quickly and walked into the hallway and noticed the light was on in Rachel's room. He dreaded this moment, although he knew it had to come. Shadows seen in the small strip of light visible under the door confirmed that Cuddy was in there, and he knew she was likely going through Rachel's things.<p>

So much of him urged him to run, although, likely for the first time in his life, that same instinct urged him to walk into that room to get her first. He wanted to flee, leave the problems, forget about the pain, but he wanted to take her away from it as well. His mind played through a pleasant fantasy: walk into the room, get Cuddy, take her to the car, drive to Kate's place in Jersey. Maybe they could just work at the bar, or he could find her a job at his hospital, repaying the favor she granted him years earlier by providing gainful employment. A simpler life, where they could attempt to capture some of the happiness that everyone else on the planet seemed to find, but strangely eluded them. A smile passed his lips for a moment before fading back into reality, and the realization that his fantasy was only that.

He opened the door cautiously, while peering through the small opening and breaking her concentration, "Mind if I come in, or…should I come back later?"

Her face was hidden from him, as she stood in front of the dresser, removing clothes from the drawers, folding them neatly, and placing them into plastic bags. "You can come in."

He walked in guardedly, trying to disrupt her as little as possible, and sat down on Rachel's unmade bed, where they had slept so comfortably in spite of its small size, only a short time ago.

With collected professionalism she said, "I'll take these down to the clothing bank, most of them were only worn a few times anyway. At least someone can use them."

He nodded, regarding the pile of clothes folded and left on top of the dresser. She saw his eyes lingering there and added, "These, I'm keeping, at least for now."

"Want me to do something?"

"You can get those books down off of the shelves. The waiting room at the clinic could really use some more children's books. I'll run down and get a bin from the garage," she said, while picking up the book he held the night before, along with a few others that had some sentimental value.

When she returned with the box she found him staring at the picture she had so often found Rachel with, of him and the little girl. "I don't even know who else would have taken this!" he said with confusion.

"Oh, I took it. I remember taking it. I just don't know how she got a printed copy of it. Mom swears it wasn't her. I know I never printed it out. It was…only a week before we broke up."

He walked over to the dresser while Cuddy took the photo and placed it with the others. He opened the top drawer and was momentarily confused by the contents pressed tightly inside a large clear plastic bag. Bright purple cotton fabric, printed with what looked like butterflies…with...

He shook his head while he tried to comprehend exactly what he saw. This was clearly the last outfit the little girl had ever worn to school. The crisp pretty dark purple of her cotton shirt, with white, pink and green butterflies were visible along one edge but toward the center and right side of the fabric, the color and screen print faded into angry, brown, dried bloodstains. The shirt was cut up the middle, likely by the First Responders who arrived at the scene to make a last ditch effort to save to the girl. He opened the bag and, beneath the shirt, found small jeans, also, at one time, hurriedly sliced open to gain access to her tiny figure. His heart thudded angrily, unable to remain objective to a sight that he had so often seen without any emotional reaction at all.

"Put that down," she yelled behind him, moving quickly across the floor to take the bag from his hands, gingerly gathering the clothes and neatly folding them as they had been before.

"Why in the hell would you keep that?" he asked, consumed by confusion.

"You can help me with _any_ other thing in this room. These…are non-negotiable"

"I don't understand. Why would you want to keep such a macabre reminder of the worst moment of your life?"

"She wore these. I…put them out for her the night before…" she answered.

"I think you should keep things that don't remind you of exactly how horrible her death was. That…is what you are doing. You're going to non-negotiably hold on to the one thing that you really should let go. This…is not healthy"

"Already said, non-negotiable," she responded, her voice growing testy with irritation.

"Listen to me. You said you need to let go, but want to hold on…_this_ is what you need to let go of. You need to hold on to these pictures," he said pointing over toward a large stack of photographs, his voice growing angry, "and sure, some of her books, something that she loved, but…_that_…you need to let go of that, because it does _nothing_ but hold you in that moment with her. You're immortalizing her in the worst moment of her life instead of trying to remember one of the thousands of good moments before."

He had never, in all of their years, seen her as unhappy as she was at that moment. He could see the confusion, uncertainty and loss all written plainly across her face. "Don't you think I know that? I hugged her wearing that outfit. I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and…I told her to clean her room. That's what I fucking said to her. My last goddamn words to my baby, 'Love you Rach…don't forget to pick up your room before I get home, I'm sick of it looking like that'. The next time I hugged her she was barely recognizable and she was already gone. Do you know what I'd do to hold her right now? What I'd do for ten more minutes…for…30 fucking seconds…just to hug her. To feel her hand pat my back at the end of the hug…to hear, 'Love you, Mom,' just one more time."

"Fuck…" he sighed out, with the most honest feeling of sympathy he had ever expressed.

"That's me though, isn't it?" she questioned with sorrowful resignation, "My last chance to tell my child anything in the world…and I told her she should clean something up. I'm so damn obsessed with perfection that it's the last thing Rachel ever heard from me."

"At least you told her you loved her in that same sentence. You started your goodbye with 'love you Rach'. She knew you loved her. I wish, that just one time…one single time…I could have been unafraid enough to tell her that. Guess that's me though too…isn't it?"


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer**-I don't own

Corrected errors-republished

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><p>Cuddy had gotten rid of the vast majority of Rachel's books, and most of the toys. Many of the clothes were gathered to be dropped off at the clothing bank. The clothes that Rachel had worn to school the morning she died, were another story. After their earlier discussion, Cuddy disappeared from the room with the plastic bag, shutting the door behind her to make it perfectly clear to House that he was to remain in the room until she returned.<p>

Initially, he was frustrated, both that she kept the items, and that she refused to let him know where she was storing them. He was disturbed that she didn't trust him enough to share where she was keeping the clothes, although he acknowledged that he had, on occasion, "helped" people by forcing them into situations they weren't ready to deal with. Finally determining that her fears were somewhat justified, and that, at that point, the clothing was simply too difficult for her to part with, he decided to be more than satisfied with her overall progress.

The much emptier, more organized room was visible evidence that Cuddy was trying to cope with the situation.

When she returned from stashing the package, she found him sitting on Rachel's unmade bed with pictures next to him. "Where was this?" he asked, pointing at a picture of a widely smiling Cuddy, holding an awed Rachel, who was inches away from the face of a giraffe that she was feeding.

"Maryland Zoo. Right down the road."

"Who took it?"

"Does it_ honestly_ matter?" she asked, her tone and body language displaying her frustration at the question.

"I'm supposed to say no"

"You…are trying to turn your hurt into jealousy, so that instead of feeling hurt, you can feel angry with me…but I'll answer, or you'll assume I'm deflecting. My sister and her kids came for the day, we went to the zoo. It was a good day."

He nodded, took a deep breath, and said, "Wilson said you were distant with the last guy…"

"I tried my hand at a normal relationship one more time. It didn't work out. Are you going to be disappointed that Matthew and I didn't work out?"

"Decidedly no," he answered curtly before continuing, "Wilson also said the new beau wasn't invited to stay over much…why?"

She looked out of Rachel's window at the street below, "He was the third guy I'd dated seriously since I'd adopted Rachel. I didn't want her getting the picture that there was a revolving door on my bedroom"

"Is that the truth?"

She sighed, "Partially, I guess"

"So…what's the truth?"

"I wanted to meet someone that would make me forget that I missed you. I didn't want to miss you. I didn't want to be the woman that would let a man hurt her like that, and come back for more."

"Did you love him?" he asked, his voice nearly cracking.

She looked at him suddenly, uncertain how much to disclose. She studied his face carefully, looking for signs of cruelty or manipulation, and only found insecurity. "No. I didn't"

"Did you tell him you did?"

"No. I would never lie about something like that"

"So…you meant it when you said it to me?"

"Yes, I did. Every single time I said it"

He smiled involuntarily, all while hating her use of the past tense. It was a mixed blessing, her admission that she did, at one time, love him, but her words were clear, she was referring to the past. Sitting there, raw with ache, he desperately wanted her to tell him that she still felt that way.

"The real question is…did _you _mean it?" she asked, having trouble even forming the words.

"I did," he answered with surprising directness and then quickly moving on, "Say it to anyone else…after me?"

She sighed, "Of course, I said it every day…"

"Not to Rachel, or anyone in your family…you know what I'm getting at…"

"I can't get a straight answer from you about your hooker habit, but you want me to come clean about my feelings for other men?"

"Works for me. Sex and love...are two very different things"

"You are the last man I said those words to. You are also the last man I felt that way towards. Did I answer all of your questions now? Are you happy? You win. I'm too tired to play games," she said, walking out of Rachel's room and into her own.

He caught up to her in her room, "Does this really matter now?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered gruffly before pushing her against her window and kissing her fervently.

"What the hell…" she moaned out, as he was almost fiercely removing the clothes from her body.

His only response was an unintelligible groan as he started removing, with similar urgency, his own clothes. She moved her hands along his hips, trying to slow the pace somewhat, slowly, calmly lifting his shirt.

"House, really, are you OK?" she managed as she tried to focus on her questions and not the sensations of him trying to arouse her.

"Want you…now," he said, moving them over to her bed as quickly as he could.

She desperately craved a more meaningful exchange…something that would fill the pain, but certainly not the quick cold round they were headed for. She knew that when he agreed to accompany her a few weeks earlier, he had no idea that he would become mired in feelings he was unaware of himself. She also knew that his calm insistence that they try to separate explorations of their relationship from emotionally charged situations was much simpler to enforce when he wasn't the one feeling the emotions.

His eyes avoided her entirely, this was the first time since they'd been reunited that his touch had been so impersonal. He pushed her back onto the bed and moved his hips between her legs, prepared to take what he needed for himself when he looked at her face. He looked at her for a split second, hoping to see desire and excitement, some evidence of their mutual need for this. It was easy to see by her expression that she wasn't lost in passion or even lust. He stopped, put his forehead down on her shoulder and whispered, "Everything hurts… I just wanted to…"

He sighed as he tried to pull himself into a seated position. He had done many horrible things to her throughout time, with varying aftereffects, but sex was the one thing he always felt she was a willing participant in, even at the times she was more hesitant, he was always careful about not pushing her too far. He knew well that one hand on his chest, placed just so, would give him pause, or a certain tone she would use when she'd whisper his name always focused his attention on whether or not she was consenting.

She guided him back down onto the bed, "I wasn't stopping you…I want you too," she whispered.

"Didn't look like it"

She moved next to him, partially over his body and kissed him with the loving need she felt, both taking and giving. His initial response was stilted, but it only took a few moments for him to feel that_ this_ was what he wanted. The way she looked at him, the way she felt, the way she moved, he could feel the depths of her caring for him. They moved as quickly as possible past foreplay, wanting only the deepest physical connection they could find, the sex really only incidental to their need for oneness. She sunk down on him, clumsily. All of their finely choreographed experiences of the past, teases and torments, the way they used their knowledge of the other to increase desire and intensity were ignored. She shoved pillows under his shoulders, trying to have him sit up at that back of the bed to feel him close.

As their excitement built, they started exchanging smiles, fully enjoying the carefree experience of sheer pleasure and the sense of relief that was chasing so much intense pain. He murmured against her lips, "Tell me."

"…I missed you," she said, looking into his eyes.

"Not what I want to hear. You know that"

"You feel…so good," she panted.

"Come on, Cuddy…please"

"I need you, I've… always needed you"

He closed his eyes, frustrated, until he felt her placing soft, delicate kisses along his face, "I need you too," he answered, resigned.

"You know how I feel, House, I don't have to say it"

That admission was enough for him for the moment. He pulled her to him with crushing force, "Me too," he said, at a volume just below a whisper. They raced to completion, the least composed of all of their hundreds of encounters, yet possibly the most heartfelt.

When they were finished, he kept her against him, and she could feel the sense of disappointment emanating from him. That sense that, perhaps all wasn't forgiven. She sat up, kissed him sweetly and said, with the utmost directness, "I'm not going to discuss my deepest feelings for you for the first time in a very long time, while we're having sex. If either of us is going to ever say anything like that, I want to make sure we know what we are saying. If you're going to tell me anything that serious, I want it to come from your mind, not your penis."

"What if my mind and my penis both share the same feelings for you? I think they're remarkably united on that front"

She giggled genuinely for the first time in what felt like ages.

Some of the tension was broken for the time. Although they both understood they were seeking a reprieve from the emotional overload, they found temporary solace in each other.

* * *

><p>Later that day he was enjoying his favorite things…sitting in front of the piano, tempted away from it only by the promise of sex…with <em>her.<em> In between sex and playing, she had brought him food. The day was looking up. They had agreed to take the rest of the day off from their obligations, vowing to finish organizing Rachel's room the next day.

As he tinkered at the piano, she looked over a few work items before disappearing with her phone. When she returned, she leaned down on the piano facing him.

"Come hither smile, breasts on display…I'm guessing this means you want something from me…Please tell me that wasn't your mother on the phone."

"It…wasn't my mother on the phone"

"Lil' sister?"

"Nope"

"OK, anything else is fine then"

"I should probably run into work, tomorrow, just for a few hours. You wanted to see the place anyway…"

He made a slightly disapproving face, tinged with suspicion, "I thought you were on leave"

"Just some things need signed. It will be faster if I take care of it"

"Faster?" he asked skeptically.

"I'm sure certain things will get done correctly if I handle them"

He nodded, still playing. "So…" she continued, "if you want to come along, you can see my office, and one of the clinics I run, or you can stay here and have some alone time with the piano…provided that you take whatever precautions are necessary to avoid getting splinters in anything I might want to play with later"

He stopped playing, thrilled with her teasing banter, and placed a hand on the piano, "I can't believe you'd suggest that she'd give me splinters…she's not that kind of girl"

Cuddy grinned at him. "I'll go with you…could be fun," he said, raising his brows.

"Hear me now, I promise you, there will be no sex, or sex-like acts, anywhere in my clinic…anywhere on the grounds, or in the parking areas, or…" she thought carefully, trying to close any loopholes he may try to use, "you always find the damn gaps in my rules...let's go with this: there will be no sex or sex-like acts from the time we walk out of this door to go to my clinic in the morning, until the time we get back here afterwards. Still want to go?"

"Definitely"

"You understand what I said right, you...agree to my rules for clinic conduct?"

"Certainly"

"I know you are up to something…I can hear it!"

He smiled deviously and returned to playing.

She went out to the kitchen, feeling like baking something. It was the first day she had felt even the slightest degree of domesticity in her home since Rachel died. House was there, and she actually _wanted_ him there. He was playing and flirting and above all else, he said he loved her daughter. Those words just reverberated in her head as she grabbed brownie mix and oil from the cupboard, eggs from the refrigerator, and preheated the oven. She had always suspected that somewhere inside him he had some small degree of fondness for Rachel, but she never thought that he would say he _loved_ her. It was shocking just how much more intense that made her feelings for him.

She was stirring the mix, actually talking to herself. Though her words were silent, she was gesticulating and truly carrying on the conversation solo.

"All of those empty calories and preservatives, Dr. Cuddy, I'm shocked," she heard from behind her, at the same time as she felt a long arm wrap around her waist and saw his other hand moving to the counter next to her.

She yelled, almost an "eek," as he startled her and she tipped the bowl, knocking it on to the floor and all over her left hand. "Shit!" she griped, trying to turn in his arms but unable.

"You made a huge mess!" he teased. "Did your personalities actually fully split, because it looked like one hell of a conversation you were having in here all by your lonesome"

"You scared me you big jerk," she laughed, looking down at her batter covered hand.

He turned her in his arms and picked her up onto the counter. "I don't have any more mix," she complained.

He slurped the batter off of one finger loudly, "it would have been good. Too bad you're getting shaky and so easily frightened in your old age"

She raised one eyebrow and smeared his face with her batter-covered hand, the sticky concoction clinging to his stubbled face. She started giggling at the shocked look on his face, and he couldn't help but grin as he pushed past her feeble attempts to stop his face from burying into her neck, smearing batter along her skin.

"You are such a jackass!" she yelled, reaching over toward the sink to grab her washcloth.

"Am I?" he said as she nodded. He gripped her hips tightly and backed away just a bit so he was looking at her. "Love you."

"What?" she asked, shocked and waiting for the joke to follow.

"I love you," he said, shrugging calmly, using the same tone he'd use to say "I'm tired" or "I like pizza." Just a statement of undisputed fact.

"Since you don't think we should talk about it when we're having sex, I thought I should say it when I'm pissing you off…that way…you know it's genuine," he smirked. "Just thought, before I have to regret not saying it, I should…say it."

Her mouth slightly agape, she watched as he quickly limped away, turning in the doorway to shoot her a boyish grin before leaving the kitchen entirely.

Sitting for a few moments to collect her thoughts, still completely taking off guard, she hopped down off of the counter to go find him, and stepped in the pool of brownie batter on the floor.

"Bastard," she muttered as she hopped on one foot over to the sink to get paper towels and clean up both her foot and the floor.

House walked into the powder room to wash off his face and leaned down onto the sink, "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he repeated, looking in the mirror. "What in the hell were you thinking?" he asked his reflection, transferring his gaze to the door when he noticed Cuddy standing there, leaning against the frame.

"So, what do you think the chances are that we'd both develop multiple personalities within moments of each other, since I'm not the only one engaging in spirited conversation while alone?"

He ignored the question as he finished washing his face and patted it dry with a hand towel before turning and leaning against the sink.

"Wasn't it you who said that we always find each other in times of sadness, and that you wanted to be sure about our motivations?" she asked.

He squinted one eye, thinking, "Sounds vaguely like something I said"

"But yet…"

"We've been honest about bigger things lately than discussing something we both already knew to be true," he said matter-of-factly, trying to hide the nervousness in his face. He never for a moment expected that she wouldn't have returned his sentiment before he could leave the kitchen and he was angry at himself for not considering that possibility.

"No master plan here?" she asked.

"Nope"

"I'm shocked"

"Don't be. If something happens to you, then I'll have to try to fall in love with Kate or Wilson. Then I have to tell _them_ I love them while mourning the fact that I didn't tell you that I loved you, it's this terrible cycle that I'm really interested in breaking. Face it, I'd rather have sex with Kate, but I know Wilson's the only who's gonna cave to my charms."

Cuddy chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood. Sauntering toward him and throwing her arms around his neck she said, "You, are the most infuriating human being on the planet…since you already know my true feelings, I guess I won't waste your time," she said, turning to walk away.

"What?" he asked impulsively, "Seriously?"

Turning back to him she said, "I have loved you for so long. _If_ I was able to ever stop, which I seriously doubt I was, but, if I ever I was...I fell in love with you harder and faster at the beach than I thought was even possible."

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><p><strong>AN**-drop a review, if you're so inclined. As always, it's appreciated!


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N-**_I'm not from another "fandom" or whatever that even means._

_I just really like these characters, I don't like the way the show ended what I thought was an awesome story between two people that cared very, very deeply about each other. I actually thought that was obvious, because I know the characters pretty well. I honestly really loved their dynamic before it all went to hell. I think House and Cuddy are actually my favorite love story._

_I spend on average 5-6 hours per night writing this. That's a lot of time invested. I'm not pulling any rugs out from under anyone. Why would I spend so much time on this just to screw with people? That's not who I am. I've received PM's about this and reviews, and I don't know what to say._

_I write this because I want to see my sense of justice for the characters, something beautiful because, the way the end of Season 7 went, and Season 8 is now, left me with a terrible taste in my mouth._

_Thanks for reading_

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own these guys_

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><p>Cuddy watched his face as he tried to comprehend everything she was saying. He was actually the brave one who broached the topic of love, an entire line of conversation that typically sent him running in horror. Although she toyed with him a bit, probably just as some small measure of revenge for his transgressions, she came back at him with a statement that was beyond a reciprocation of love. He looked...perplexed, and then happy. Really happy. He caved enough to allow a small grin, and from there, he couldn't suppress the somewhat goofy smile that emerged on his face.<p>

She laughed at him as she walked back over, "I have to say it," she said, "and you are going to be _so _irritated with me…but you look…adorable with that confused look on your face."

His smile faded quickly to a displeased look, "I have never been confused or adorable."

"First time for everything," she whispered as she kissed him yet again until the smirk returned to his face.

They went to the kitchen where he scolded her for her inability to make brownies without a mix and tried to find the things he needed to make them from scratch.

"It's not that complicated, Cuddy," he began, as he opened cocoa powder and tilted the container to see how much was left, "What the hell?" he asked, holding the container on its side to show her how the contents were so ancient that the powder was completely packed on the bottom, unmoved by gravity. "This expired 5 years ago. This cocoa powder actually expired before we broke up. Which means you took it out of your cupboard, put it in a box and brought it with you when you moved."

She glared at him with shocked disbelief, "I was likely slightly distracted by being a single mother forced to relocate and find a new job because of the jealous idiot that ran into her home…so…"

He winced, "OK, yes…fine. You win that one. We'll blame the cocoa powder on him, whoever that _guy_ was…James Wilson, or…whoever, doesn't matter…"

She dug through the freezer, and pulled out a different container. "Here. This is ready to eat"

He read the label with a look of contempt, "This is pathetic!" he said, as he opened the lid and found a thick layer of ice coating the frozen yogurt, "You need to be more devoted to snacking. I think I really need to help you embrace this…it's yet another talent I can help nurture," he said with melodramatic sincerity.

House sat on the sofa eating the dessert as Cuddy stared out the front window. "You ok?" he asked after a few minutes.

"It's kind of weird, isn't it, to feel so happy and so sad at the same time. I…don't want you to take it the wrong way..."

"I'm a selfish ass, but I'm not quite that bad. I don't really think that you're going to be able to replace everything that you've lost by slumming it with me again"

"You know, I tried to bleach the stains out of the pavement, right before I left for the beach," she nodded toward the window that overlooked the street. "I guess it was too late, I must have waited too long"

House looked outside and thought momentarily before wordlessly getting up and disappearing. Cuddy choked back the sadness, feeling guilty that she had interrupted one of their few moments of happiness with darker topics. She decided he must have gone to bed and chose to go with him. When she turned, he was standing by the front door with some bottles of cleaner, a bucket and some scrub brushes. "You sure you're ready to get rid of them?" he asked.

"It's dark outside!"

Trying each of the light switches by the door until one triggered the light that lit up the driveway, he looked back at her and said, "Yet another complicated problem solved by the great mind of Gregory House."

She smirked and sighed deeply, "OK then, yes, I'm ready."

They walked to the end of the driveway and he sat carefully on the pavement next to the worst of the bloodstains that remained. The marks were relatively small, anyone passing on foot probably wouldn't have noticed them, or if they did, they wouldn't be suspicious of their origins, but to Cuddy, they were bright, painful reminders.

Sitting across from him she watched as he wet the pavement with water from the bucket and squirted the contents of one of the cleaning bottles onto one of the stains, then worked the mixture into the pavement. They sat for a few minutes and waited.

He took some of the water from the bucket and poured it over the area revealing clean, white pavement beneath.

"What did you use?" she asked, startled, expecting that nothing would ever wash away the reminder.

She picked up the bottle, "Rust remover! Oh my god, why didn't I think of that, I…_really_ should have known that…"

"Wasn't really the _blood _you were seeing anymore, just the iron left over from the blood. Iron…rust…"

She put her head in her hand, "I don't know why I didn't think of that"

"Probably a little hard to be objective," he started off sympathetically, before shifting, "that, and you likely forgot everything you learned in med school when you sold your soul for a job that involved nothing but squashing the brilliantly creative diagnostic skills of dashing rogue doctors"

"That's unfair…" she began, before smirking slightly, trying to sound happier than she felt, "You forget that I also squash the dreams and ideas of people who are far less intelligent or creative. I'm an equal opportunity squasher."

After an hour, the evidence of Rachel's accident was obliterated. House brushed his hands together victoriously, "Well, we got that all…"

He stopped as he realized she had tears in her eyes, her palm pressed flat against the pavement. "Fuck…I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine," she stopped him, "Thank you for helping me, I appreciate it"

The cool early summer breeze blew across them, the air whisking away the harsh smell of the cleaner and replacing it with the fresh, sweet smell of the trees that lined the street. House stood up gingerly as Cuddy gathered the supplies from the ground. When they turned to walk back inside, the outside lights came on from Cuddy's neighbor's house, and he shot a warning glare at the windows, hoping the message was conveyed to any onlookers to stay away.


	27. Chapter 27

The sound of the alarm from Cuddy's phone woke them both, causing her to kiss his forehead and scurry off to the shower.

He felt strangely comforted that she admitted that, on some level, she had loved him all along, even when he did everything to make himself unlovable to her. Only Cuddy could forgive him, could deal with all of his insanity, and tolerate who he was, while in some bizarre way, loving him _because_ of who he was. He looked at his phone for a second and wondered if he should call psychiatric services to have her evaluated.

It was the most peculiar déjà vu, laying there in bed, listening to her get ready for the day.

Having a roommate ensured that his days were filled with the sounds of other people, in stark contrast from so many years alone. Interestingly, Cuddy getting ready for the day somehow sounded different from the sounds of other people. More precise perhaps, he thought, almost as if each of her actions were finely tuned, planned to allow her maximum results with the fewest steps.

When she emerged from the bathroom he watched her through barely slitted eyes. "Get up. I can tell when you're awake," she said, as she moved through the room.

His eyes blinked open, "You can't _tell..."_

"I can, your face goes from that, blank innocent look to that lecherous ass look as soon as consciousness sets in. Subtle, but clearly noticeable."

"You think I look innocent when I'm asleep?"

"Well…innocent-er," she smiled.

He opened one eye and lifted his head from the bed to watch her. "Can you wear something less tempting? You want me to keep my hands off of you, but you wear something like this?"

She looked down at her pencil skirt and deep blue blouse. "I'm thinking this one is actually not all that revealing"

"Top's all silky, definitely vee's low enough, and skirts…I think pretty much skirts of any kind are automatically an overture"

"Perhaps a nun will come in…I could borrow her getup?"

"Still skirty…anything I can bunch up and get over your hips counts as skirty"

"Noted," as she added with disbelief, "_You_ are a sick man"

He shot her a scandalous look, rubbing his thigh firmly before following her into the bathroom where she stood in front of the mirror applying makeup. "I don't have my finery along. You'll have to settle for plainclothes me. Unless you have something I can borrow."

Thinking calmly before smiling, she gestured for him to follow her back into the bedroom. She disappeared into the walk-in closet, rooted around for a moment and emerged with one of his shirts. "Here," she said, holding it out.

He took it suspiciously, looking it over to figure out its origins. "Where'd you get this?"

"You, it's yours, shut up, don't ask," she said, dismissing him with a gesture.

He shook his head, and looked at her suspiciously.

"Didn't I say don't ask? Just, relax, it's yours, no questions," she scolded.

He held up the dark purple button down, "It's…really wrinkled"

"You care?"

"You do!" he countered.

"I'm not the one wearing it"

"Not right now," he smirked, imagining her, wearing nothing but the shirt.

"I said no questions"

"Wasn't a question, it was…an implication. You'll be seen with me, so I figured my appearance mattered."

She thought for a moment before heading off to throw the shirt into the dryer. "We'll get the worst of the wrinkles out"

Standing against the wall, he smugly waited for her to return to the room, "So…where'd you get my clothing?"

"You left it, please forget about it"

"Why'd you keep it then…part of your Friday night masturbatory ritual?"

She dropped her brush onto the dresser, "I ask you to let one damn thing go...you can't…do me that teeny tiny favor?"

He continued to grin, raising an eyebrow and waiting.

"Fine," she said, "I kept it for the voodoo doll I never got around to making," she jabbed as she walked away to finish getting ready.

"Just like old times, you look completely hot and you're angry with me before 8 am"

"You never came in before 8am," she shouted from the bathroom.

"Yea, but I've been known to call or swing by overnight…I'm sure there were plenty of mornings where you were getting dressed and were already pissed at me."

The dryer beeped and he left the room to get his shirt. He limped back into the room while buttoning it up over his tee shirt. "What did she do to you, ohh…the stories you could tell," he said, speaking to the sleeve of the shirt.

She marched back into the room from the bathroom, grabbing onto his forearm for balance while she put on one shoe and then the other. "I take it back, you stay here, I'll be back in a few hours," she smirked.

"So, how are you going to introduce me to your throngs of loyal devotees?"

She stood upright fully, hands on her hips, "I…didn't think about it, just, really, please, don't do anything too terrible. I'm not saying you have to be on your best behavior, just, don't be at your absolute worst"

"Oh, isn't it obvious, I'm a reformed man," he smirked, his hand clutching his heart.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N-**to answer questions...Wilson will be coming back!

Blah, work...Tomorrow's update is questionable, but I'll try.

**Disclaimer-**I don't own them

* * *

><p>When they entered the clinic in Baltimore, he remembered just how powerful a person she could be. All of the staff straightened slightly and although they all politely said, "Good morning Dr. Cuddy," or, "good to see you again," they were all, just a little, afraid of her. Despite the fact that she thought he didn't respect her work, she was incorrect. Although he often disrespected and negated her <em>authority <em>over him, he certainly respected the quality of her work, and definitely respected the fact that she was so good at engineering near perfection in the world around her.

Although he made half a career out of being the one person who was never afraid of her, at least professionally, he knew just how intimidating she was to most of the staff. Perhaps the ultimate irony was that, while he wasn't frightened of her in the least professionally, he was likely the person most afraid of her personally.

For years he hid carefully behind derision, sneers and degrading comments, a mask most people didn't even question. He loved the fact that people almost always assumed he was sleeping with her all along. The fact that they saw them, treating each other like that, and then surmised that by some strange force of attraction, they were meeting up to screw each other's brains out after hours, thrilled him.

Walking into this clinic was nothing like walking into the vaulted well-lit lobby of PPTH. The front desk was simple but neat and organized. The only art on the walls came in the form of framed posters, instead of original hand-painted pieces. The building was actually once a series of adjoining shops that were converted into this larger space by knocking down walls. Entering the clinic was not unlike going into a store at a strip mall.

The clinic was packed, patients lined the walls, seated in brown plastic folding chairs waiting to be seen. Makeshift exam rooms ran across the back of the space, little more than glorified cubicles. The doctors and nurse practitioners appeared to be very young, either students, or those seeking real world experience early on in their careers. Nurses weren't in carefully coordinated uniforms, instead, each wearing scrub tops of their choosing, often with patterns designed to be fun and less intimidating for the children who visited. "Dr. Cuddy!" a small, round and exceedingly friendly nurse waved from behind the front desk. "Here's the important stuff. So good to have you back, at least for the day," she said, as she handed a large stack of paperwork across the counter and squeezed Cuddy's forearm affectionately before looking at House.

"This is Greg House, he's checking out our clinic today," Cuddy said, trying to keep the introduction brief for fear House would say something that would make her cringe.

It was thoroughly amazing just how quickly the feeling of having him with her at work returned. That feeling that she should always be on guard, because anything could happen. Part of her missed that subtle underlying anxiety that had at one point been the undercurrent of each work day. She moved through the crowded waiting room back to a locked door. To the front and one side of her office door was another orderly desk, behind which was seated a very youthful, very demure, assistant. The woman spoke with remarkable efficiency, telling Cuddy exactly what she needed to know without any unnecessary elaboration. House leaned against Cuddy's door waiting. When she walked over with her key to release the lock, he said, "I'd let myself in but I don't have a copy of this key…yet."

"Sit in here and behave," she said, "I need to check on a few things, but I'll be back."

When a clearly flustered new doctor stepped into her office looking for her, House smirked. "Oh, she's not here, can I help you with something?" he asked, realizing it was time to have some fun.

The man was wide-eyed and nervous, "I need a consult…I just want to make sure…my mentor isn't here and Dr. Cuddy sometimes helps me out with this stuff."

House squinted with thought for a minute. "Lemme see the file," he said, holding out his hand insistently.

Cuddy finished with a staffing crisis at the front desk and returned to her office to find it suspiciously empty. She searched her closet, bathroom, behind the door and even under the desk, convinced that House was playing an elaborate game of hide-and-seek, but he was nowhere to be found.

When she went out to her assistant's desk, the young woman said, "You're looking for the man who is observing here at the clinic?"

"Umm…yes…you see where he went?"

"Dr. Snyder had a few questions, he volunteered to help"

"Oh god, not Snyder!" Cuddy panicked. Dr. Snyder had some of the finest grades and test scores possible and performed amazingly well in the safety of a classroom environment, but for some reason, in front of real people, he panicked and seemed to forget everything he knew. "Where are they?"

"I think I saw them go into room 5," she offered sweetly, "any chance that doctor's coming to work here? He was so sweet with Dr. Snyder"

"Not a chance in hell!" Cuddy said, as she rushed off to room 5, expecting all the while to hear the blood curdling screams of a young man having his soul crushed.

She burst through the door to find them chatting calmly by the patient. 'That bastard,' Cuddy thought as she looked at him. For all of those years she begged, she bartered, she dreamed, and finally she gave up…and there, that day, without a medical license, was House…wearing a damn lab coat. The very sight infuriated her.

"So…" House continued, looking at the younger doctor, "they were in here a few days ago, the child was diagnosed with a middle ear infection and sinusitis, you prescribed amoxicillin. Three days later the patient returns, has a maculopapular rash across the trunk… Wow that's…a pretty big mystery," House said sarcastically, leaning forward in a way that he thought encouraged the doctor to consider the simplest answer and stop searching for something rarer or more insidious.

"I know!" the younger doctor responded.

House squinted his eyes, watching him suspiciously, "Or…it could just be a rr…rrrraaaa…raaaassssshhh…"

"A…rash?"

"Yes…perhaps a reaction to the…medication," in between each piece of the phrase he tried to goad the young man into filling in the remainder of the answer, but to no avail.

"Right, yes…amoxicillin rash! So…we should take him off of it…right?"

House still watched, and Cuddy waited, she could see the entire scenario playing out in horrible, life-altering ways, but stood there paralyzed with fascination.

"Well…" he said turning to the mother, "Usually these rashes are quite harmless, if you've never had them before…"

"Never," the mother responded.

"As a precaution though," he turned back to Dr. Snyder, "we could try another antibiotic"

"Yes, exactly. I'll take it from here, thanks for your help," Snyder said, smiling at Cuddy.

House walked toward her and out the door, "Did you seriously hire that kid? What …you…decided geniuses were too much trouble so you made it your mission to employ the most idiotic person you could find with a license"

She dragged him angrily toward her office, stopping to talk to her assistant. "Where is Snyder's mentor?"

"She's out today, Dr. Cuddy"

"Great…" she drug out the word while pulling House into her office.

"And you wonder why people in Princeton thought you couldn't keep your hands off of me!" he said once they were inside.

"Ten minutes I was gone House! Ten minutes and you were already in trouble"

"I was helping you"

"Helping?"

"Well, I'd like to spring the little woman from work as early as possible, so when Dr. Preschool came in to ask you for help, I decided to chime in…that way you didn't have to deal with it"

"_YOU_ don't have a license"

"Technically, I didn't do anything wrong. He signed all of the paperwork, he was the doctor assigned to the case, I just made sure that he didn't kill your patient, or diagnose him with flesh eating bacteria and put the place on lock down"

She put her hand on her forehead. "The lab coat, House…really, you chose now, after all of the years I asked you to wear one"

"Well, I don't have a license anymore," he said, whispering loudly, hand next to his mouth as if he were conveying a secret, "So I wore the lab coat to avoid questions. It's really amazing how much trust people put in white coats!"

Cuddy's assistant knocked and came through the door. House moved to stand behind Cuddy and slightly off to one side. The assistant asked what they were going to do about the easily flappable Dr. Snyder. Cuddy braced herself, she knew exactly what to expect. He was going to grab her ass, or brush his hip against her ass, or knee her ass, this was well established protocol. He used to always try to fluster her, make her flinch, when someone was watching, particularly if that person wasn't aware of their relationship.

She carried on the entire conversation, completely distracted by her alertness to his presence and preparedness for his next move. "I'll sit with him," House offered.

"You?" Cuddy asked suspiciously.

"Yea, I can help him get through the line of patients, you can do your paperwork and then we can get back to your leave of absence," he said, the assistant looking on.

She did finally feel him moving behind her, and readied herself for whatever he was going to do, which came in the form of a hand placed on the small of her back. She did a literal double take at him, surprised at his move.

He smiled at her, obviously pleased with the fact that he was keeping her on her toes. "I'll sit in on his exams, and if I need you, I'll let you know"

Cuddy's mouth was slightly agape as she waited for the 'House-element' that would make this worthwhile to him. Her assistant interrupted Cuddy's wordless argument. "I'm going to wait outside, when you know what you want to do, just let me know"

"What are you trying to do?" she asked him, as the door closed, standing so close that they were nearly touching.

"Help you," he said smirking.

"You're smirking…so what's the catch?"

"I'm usually either smirking or scowling, those are the two defaults Cuddy"

"How do you benefit?"

"The sheer joy of helping you!" he said exaggeratedly.

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"Nope. But, the way I figure it, you don't have a lot of choices. Or… _you_ could babysit the idiot, and _I_ could do your paperwork. I am remarkably good at signing your name"

She rolled her eyes. "OK, how about this," he continued, "I'll get through that pile of patients, without touching a single one, I'll just help Dr. Doofus. He'll do all of the patient touching and signing and boring stuff and I'll see if I can knock down the hordes gathering out there …all, while donning the much lauded lab coat that will have you panting and naked for me as soon as we get back to your place."

"You're screwing with me"

"Maybe a little. But I'll do it. You can pop out and check up on me whenever you want"

"I have a really bad feeling about this. How do you benefit?"

"I did mention the naked and panting thing, right? Perhaps a little…additional gratitude"

"Well that makes sense, since I'm definitely not a sure thing…" she said sarcastically. "If you lose?"

"I won't"

"If you do?"

"Name it"

"Perfect, if lose, you are my office slave the next Saturday you come up here to visit me"

He stared for a moment, realizing then that at some point they'd each have to return fully to their separate lives, while finding ways to keep each other in them. He felt the sequence of feelings that seemed so uniquely Cuddy-related, a wave of clenching panic, followed by a subtle sense of happiness. This is good, he quickly analyzed to himself at the thought that she was still assuming their relationship would be continuing on once his vacation and her leave of absence were over. Finding ways to make an already complicated relationship work over some distance would likely be a challenge, but then again, they both loved challenges. He'd never understand how he could be so scared of the concept of committing to a person, and yet so desperate to keep her for his own.

"I would be…thrilled to be your office slave, what sort of items do you need me to bring. I have loincloths in four different colors. For this…event…I may actually throw the competition!"

"Bring your reading glasses, I'll have you keying in all of those files"

"Cuddyyyyy… I give you naked and panting and you give me keying in files?"

"You said you weren't going to lose"

"Naked and panting it is!" he declared as he walked out of the room.

Cuddy was soon distracted with all of the work she had in her office. When she looked out of the office she saw all of the patients in the clinic were in three different groups. She poked her head out to the assistant and asked, "What's the deal with the groups?"

"He looked at each patient for a second and said they were either 'colds', 'swabs' or 'actual problems'. He said he thought it would help Dr. Snyder to know what he was getting into before the patients got in the room."

Cuddy went back into her office, deciding that the easily flustered Snyder would probably come flying into her office at the slightest hint of trouble. Another half an hour passed and when she walked out the lines were quickly dwindling. She saw people leaving the exam rooms without cursing and was alarmed.

Approaching the exam room with suspicion, she walked in and there was House, with Snyder, discussing a patient. She directed another doctor into the room with Snyder and pulled House from the room, "What are you trying to do?"

"Exactly what I said I would do," he answered as they walked toward her office.

"I'm…not buying it," she said, turning to face him once they were back inside her office with the door closed. She looked carefully at his face and started to grin, "You…are actually sweating. You are being nice to him, and the patients, and it's taking so much effort that you are actually sweating," she said, as she noticed the beads of perspiration along his forehead.

He glared just a bit, trying to force a smile, "My god that kid is stupid. You can't possibly let him see patients! You called me dangerous?"

"I know, I need to fire him"

"Not yet, I have him taking care of the 'swabs' group. I don't think I can hold my tongue through all of them…plus I'm hoping he can actually handle that all by himself"

"Stop it!" she screamed.

"What did I do now?"

"I can't take this…you…like this..."

"So wait, are you actually going to complain that I'm being nice and following your rules?"

"Yes, it's…creepy and I know you have an ulterior motive, you _always_ have an ulterior motive..."

Before she could comprehend what happened he had her against the desk, a small chuckle emerging from his throat, as he knew he had again accomplished his goal: her acknowledgment that him following rules was somehow to difficult to put up with.

He was kissing her and thinking of ways to get himself over to the door to engage the lock or over to the closet, somewhere where they could have a hint of privacy without giving her a moment to hesitate. He thought to himself just how easy it was to get Cuddy to play right into his hands until he slid his hand up and under her skirt and his fingers did not find the silky softness of her thighs, but instead found slippery fabric.

He moved back a little, trying to comprehend exactly what he was feeling. "Bike shorts," she smiled smugly, "I figured I might need something to slow you down. You think you are soooo clever. I know you, and I know your games…buddy"

"Would you rather be writhing, or right?"

"At this moment, I'd rather be right. Just a little later, my answer may change. I said no sex here"

"You also said you hated me following the rules"

"The other rules. This one…_I _am choosing to follow. If _you_ want to break that rule, _you_ are going to have to do it on your own, the bathroom's over there"

"You didn't put those shorts on to slow me down, you put them on to slow yourself down, because you know you have precious little self-control when it comes to me," he said, grinning at her, often secretly thrilled with her intelligence and competitive behavior, even when it foiled his own plans, proving to him, yet again, she was a worthy adversary.

When a knock came at the door she pushed him away quickly and slipped behind her desk.

"Come in," she said, her voice just a bit shaky.

"I got to you," House whispered before the intruder entered the room.

"How much longer are you here?" the assistant asked, "and what do you want me to do about Dr. Snyder?"

"Not much longer, I'm almost done signing everything. And I'll…take care of Dr. Snyder"

The assistant left the room and House said, "You know what, you should fire him so I can hire him…"

Cuddy looked at him with the utmost confusion, "You…"

"Yea, he's an idiot with a medical license who will do and sign whatever I tell him. I'm not seeing the downside. Besides, I'm thinking you were right...doctoring is fun!"

Cuddy called in the doctor supervising the floor to inform her that Snyder had one more week to become an independently functioning doctor, and that he wasn't permitted to see a single patient by himself.

"Meanie," House said without looking up from the game he was playing on his phone.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N-**I'm sorry I don't respond to each of the reviews individually, but again, thank you so very much for your time and thoughts

**Disclaimer**-this chapter contains adult content

* * *

><p>Cuddy was watching him sit, slumped deeply into the sofa in the corner of her office, as she had seen so many times while they were dating back in Princeton. He loved hiding in her office during work or after hours, waiting impatiently for her to get done. Being allowed in her office beyond the moments where he was trying to cajole her into agreeing to whatever he wanted or needed was nearly as strange as being invited into her home when blazers and skirts were long forgotten for the day and replaced with sweats and over-sized tee shirts.<p>

He was playing a game on his phone, but he certainly wasn't concentrating on it. All he could think about was how to convince her to have sex with him in her office, or anywhere in that building. The fantasy of her, with all of her power, the cool, untouchable, nearly unflappable boss, quivering, hell sometimes begging for him and him alone _never_ grew old. He didn't tire of it while they were dating before and all of the years in between filled with questions and loneliness and all out heartache still didn't dampen the fact that he adored being the one to make her feel that way. The more her recent depression began to ease, the more he could feel her frisky intensity returning, and he was increasingly eager to exploit that aspect of their dynamic.

Her power didn't threaten him in the least, as it probably did countless other men. It was part of the reason why he had always wanted her so badly. Long before she was in a position of power, she carried herself with that same strength, poise and attitude that most men would write off as bitchy.

She was sitting behind her desk, telling people via phone and email what to do, shooting down the requests of those who walked through the door, passing judgment and verbally kicking asses. The more authoritative and certain she was, the more he wanted her.

He understood that her regard for him was in many ways similar. When most people saw him, they saw the brilliant but egotistical bastard, the cold, harsh, logical side of House. Granted, _most_ of him was that very self he so comfortably portrayed, but there was a tiny, slightly less abrasive side of him which was often hidden. It was the same side that stood by her these last few weeks and tried to slowly pull her from the pain she was lost in. She seemed to be the person most able to see those kinder parts of him, with more regularity than anyone else, but perhaps it was because she was also the most accepting of the qualities most people despised.

They each found something oddly attractive about the traits in each other that outsiders found abhorrent.

"I can hear the gears grinding in your head," she said from the other side of the room.

"I'm playing my game"

"Well, I'm sure you are, but you aren't making those 'ooo' sounds that you usually make, where I can tell how your game is going. Since you aren't reacting, you must be distracted. I can only assume you are thinking"

"What do I have to do…what is it you want?" he asked, peering over his phone.

"World peace?" she questioned, knowing full well where the conversation was heading.

"I'm in a bargaining mood," he offered.

She just smirked at him, self-assured and in a position of power. It wasn't often that she was in such a position with him. "What's on the table?"

"Hopefully you. So I repeat the question: What do you want?" he replied, his voice low and pleasantly intimidating.

"What are you offering?"

"Wait, fine, we're going to play this until one of use gets pissed…I can see it. Umm, I'll let you pick the location, and the time…and I'll be happy to try absolutely any position you're into…of course that last one is probably more the rule than the exception…but I figured I'd remind you."

"After the clinic closes?"

"Sure…fine, we can start with that"

"OK, yea, go check on Snyder for me, and then, we'll figure out the specifics."

If House could have skipped, he would have, straight to the door. He placed his hand on the knob, turned around to say something lewd, and his expression changed entirely, "You conniving bitch!" he accused, "You…almost had me!"

She smiled innocently, looking up at him over her work, "What?"

"You told me this is a 24-hour clinic…so I'm guessing it won't be closing for a while"

She maintained her smirk. "That's really, really low Cuddy…even for an administrator. You just came dangerously close to breaking our pledges of honesty…"

"There was nothing dishonest in my terms, you simply didn't retain key information"

"Perhaps not dishonest, but definitely misleading. Check on Snyder yourself," he said as he returned to the sofa, more irritated than he wanted to admit.

Typing calmly at her computer, she pretended not to notice his sulking until she started feeling somewhat guilty. "Come here," she said after several minutes.

"Think I've been manipulated enough for now, but thanks," he said until he heard Dr. Snyder outside of the door trying to convince Cuddy's assistant to allow him into her office.

House rose from the sofa, grabbed the chair that was in front of her desk, and moved it behind the desk directly next to her. He could sense she was feeling guilty and hoped to capitalize on that emotion. "Take off the shorts," he said without hesitation.

"Why?"

"Because I know you, you said no sex here just to give me a challenge...you...are toying with me...testing me. You know you want to screw around as badly as I do."

"I don't want to. I can take them off, and still turn you down."

She slipped out of not only the shorts, but her panties as well, while seated there at her desk, letting them slide down her legs toward the floor, freeing one leg entirely and crossing her legs at the knees to let the discarded clothes hang off of the other ankle as her leg bounced.

"Better," he commented, just as Dr. Snyder walked into the room.

"Yes?" she said to the inept doctor, trying to sound as if she wasn't overwhelmingly irritated by his presence.

"I would like someone to look at this," he said while holding out a file.

"House, could you…" she asked.

"Nooo…sorry, headache," he said as he rested his elbow on her desk and put his forehead into his hand.

She felt his other hand resting insistently on her knee. She held out her hand for the file, hoping to get Snyder out of the office as quickly as possible. House's hand was sliding up her leg, not at all timidly. From his position with his head resting on his hand he was easily able to face her, to watch her reaction.

She opened the file, calmly lifting a paper that was secured to the back of the folder to view the information beneath. "Fever?" she asked, just as House's hand made it up to her sex.

Her leg twitched with anticipation and unease.

"I'll check," House said as he used his fingers to open her to his advances and she shot him a death glare. "Oh, you were talking to him?" he added, nodding toward Snyder.

"Low grade, 100.2," Snyder answered, completely oblivious to whatever was going on around him.

"Rebound tenderness?" she asked, maintaining her aplomb a bit too much for House's liking.

"Umm, I'm not sure," he said as Cuddy blinked several times, filled with irritation and desire simultaneously.

Two of House's fingers had been subtly dancing over her clit, playing it between the two fingertips, a third finger occasionally moving to her entrance to draw moisture upwards.

"Well, that would be a really excellent thing to check, because if there is evidence of rebound tenderness…then I think you know just how urgent this situation may be..."

Dr. Snyder looked at her somewhat blankly nodding for a few minutes, but she could see that he wasn't aware of what she was suggesting. "Dr. Snyder, if you can't tell me within the next minute exactly what I'm implying, then find yourself another job, effectively immediately," she said, looking down at the second hand of her watch.

House had one finger already pushing into her and she was surprised to find her hips sliding down slightly to allow him greater access. She knew she wanted this, her body wanted this, the controlling part of her mind screaming that she should try to retain greater vestiges of dignity as she felt the rush of heat with her increasing arousal.

The second hand of her watch moved forward ten seconds as House thrust a second finger into her. Cuddy knew her breath was becoming ragged, her face flushed, and she did nothing stop it. Ten more seconds passed as she felt his thumb circling her clit, working in flawless conjunction with the fingers inside her. Twenty more seconds and she felt his fingers curving upward inside her, drawing her toward a greater loss of control. Ten more seconds and at this point she hated Snyder beyond reason. She wanted him to do his job, wanted him to leave, wanted him to be able to answer such simple questions.

She felt her body responding too perfectly to House's attention and with mere seconds left Snyder said, "Well…appendicitis fits"

"Yes!" Cuddy said, too pleased and enthusiastic to be talking about the diagnosis alone. "Now go find out. If the answer is yes, get the kid to the damn hospital before his appendix bursts!"

"Definitely," he said, looking as if he had just found the cure for Alzheimer's.

"Get out of here," she said more angrily than she wanted, before she added, "And STOP seeing patients without another doctor present!"

House smirked as the door closed, his fingers now moving more relentlessly and she couldn't suppress the rocking of her hips.

After all of that teasing and anticipation it wasn't long before she felt her body gripped by orgasm, inviting him in further and more completely despite her irritation, all while her assistant was seated just outside of the office, and the door unlocked.

She leaned back in her chair, chest rising and falling rapidly. "You are so damn irresponsible"

"I'm not the one getting fingered while I'm reprimanding employees"

Pushing his hand away and straightening her skirt, she walked over to the door and locked it.

The blinds were previously drawn, and she picked up her phone to tell her assistant that she was going to be in an important meeting with the observing doctor who was visiting.

"I'm eager to make some observations," House said as Cuddy hung up.

"I'll bet you are," she replied as she slid back into her chair. She unbuttoned and unzipped his pants to reveal an already burgeoning erection.

She stroked him a few times before he tried to pull her up onto his lap, already imagining the nearly unbearable tightness of her just post-climax. She pulled away, continuing her hand job behind the desk. "Hop on up here," he suggested lecherously.

She shook her head, "Not right now"

"Come on, after the way you treated me…" he stifled a groan, "After the way you treated me, you owe me this"

"I'll get you off," she said calmly.

"I want to get off after getting in"

She smiled, sensing his growing need and underlying discomfort. "Ask nicely"

"No"

She leaned down, her face so close that the muscles along his torso twitched and tightened with the anticipation, his heartbeat fluttering slightly at the possibility that she'd wrap her lips around him and suck him off, definitely an acceptable option as far as he was concerned. But she didn't wrap those lips around him, she didn't change anything. She was even amazing with her hands, but at that moment they only made him more aroused as he craved greater contact.

"Ask nicely…"

"Sure. Get your ass up here," he smirked.

She squeezed her hand more tightly, "It's so much wetter and tighter inside me," she teased.

"Don't believe you, need proof," he managed, scarcely able to hold on to his controlled exterior.

"Tomorrow morning, when I wake up," she said, "I'm going to find your face between my legs, with your fucking amazing tongue doing exactly what I want, for exactly as long as I want"

He nodded his head, both with enthusiasm for her request, and the hopes that the direction of the bargaining session was turning more in his favor.

"Just say it," she asked, "that one little word I want to hear…"

"Now," he responded, pulling her up onto his lap while bunching up her skirt, and forcing himself inside her. After a few thrusts he was fully buried in her, knowing that if he could feel this way every moment of every day he'd be a much happier man. Her legs were up over the arms of the chair, which although not the most comfortable, gave the perfect angle for him to be deep inside her, filling her completely and rubbing in exactly the right places while giving her excellent leverage.

She was twitching around him as he thrust vigorously below her, driving her closer, his hands on her shoulders pushing her roughly down onto him. The surprise of finding him in her so abruptly, the angle of penetration and his perfectly delicious thickness had her climaxing again moments later.

He coolly detached himself mentally, avoiding looking at her altogether with the knowledge that it would be the end of him. Her head was resting against his shoulder as she tried to recompose, still experiencing intense aftershocks at the mere feeling of him deep inside her.

"Now," he said calmly, "fuck yourself."

She smirked at him as she began to move. He had his hands over her thighs, but did nothing to aid her in her movement. "Admit it, you wanted this the whole damn time"

She nodded, "yessss," she hissed.

"Good, then get me off," he smirked at her as he pulled her face close to his for a kiss that smoothed the harsh edge of his demands.

Her soft groans and whimpers of pleasure were driving him wild, as well as the sight of her legs draped uncomfortably over the chair as she worked herself on him repeatedly with perfect pace and fervor. When his orgasm finally hit, he lifted off of the chair, almost to standing as his body was overtaken with the most amazing of all sensations before dropping down onto the seat.

He opened his mouth to say something just a little too mushy for his liking and stuffed the sentiment in favor of something safer. "You are such a freak," he said, laughing tiredly. Her arms wrapped around him, she rubbed his shoulder and neck aimlessly for a few minutes. "All that talk of me, and my research job not being interesting enough…"

"Yea"

"You're bored to tears. That's why you're in here, fucking me so brazenly with patients and staff right outside. When it comes to work, you're just as bored as I am."


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N-** thanks to all of those who have reviewed. I hope I didn't miss anyone: Abby, Alex, ally316, Anonymoose, Asia, BananaWithNutella, Belle-Cuddy, berenice, Boo's House, byte size, CaptainK8, ClareBear14, Cookie, dmarchl, eastpe, esmeralda023, harpomarx, harvesttime, housebound, hfspc, HuddyGirl, hughsoulingregsmind, IHeartHouseCuddy, iridescentZEN, Itzaboo, J.S. Elster, JamHuddyFan, Jane Q. Doe, JessicaClackum, jkarr, Josam, Kashtien James, Kirey, Kish, KiwiClare, lenasti16, LiaHuddy, limptulip, Liz, Lucky08, MissBates, momsboys, Natali, newdayz, newsession, Ocean'sWriting, orco, ParijanTaiyou, phyna, RedTulipAna, Sam, sandracddy, Sara, shelly, sin101, snatch565, southpaw2, Suzieqlondon, TheHouseWitch, Tunechi Baby, yahnis

You make my make day!

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><p>The next morning, he woke her in exactly the way she had demanded in her office the previous day and they happily frittered away a few hours together enjoying life's more carnal pleasures. After the morning's fun, they decided it was time to finish the work they had begun in Rachel's room.<p>

Cuddy reverently packed three bins with items she wanted to keep that held special significance and placed them in the closet. They took bags of clothing to the trunk of her car to be donated and moved boxes of books and toys to be taken to the various clinic waiting rooms. Initially she removed the bed clothes to be replaced with something more neutral and suitable for guests, but the room looked far too barren and lonely. They agreed that for the time being, keeping the bed made up with Rachel's things was a pleasant tribute, and that during some lonely moments, it would provide more tangible comfort.

The pictures were organized, some packed, some set aside to be hung, and some awaiting placement in albums. House kept a few photos of interest to later ask about and hear the stories that accompanied them.

After dropping the clothes off at a donation center, Cuddy drove them to a park. From the trunk, she removed a basketball and they walked over to the court, continuing beyond the first set of courts with full sized hoops to one with slightly lower nets.

House rested his cane against a bench and limped onto the court. She made her first shot, which bounced off of the rim almost directly to him. He bounced the ball for a moment, "Seems a little unfair, what with me being a cripple and all…"

"You have dangerously close to an entire foot's worth of height advantage over me"

"Yea but with an ass that ginormous, you have the clear advantage when boxing out," he took a shot, which he made, the ball bouncing back toward him. He passed the ball to her.

They concentrated on their game for a few moments under the intense heat of the July sun. The only children in the park that day were gathered beneath a series of large, aged trees in search of shade.

"In the back of my mind, I was always worried that Rachel would be picked on in school, after...everything her biological mother went through. I was so worried about her staying fit so they couldn't pick on her for being out of shape. She was, shockingly, very athletic. The first time we came out here, I suggested coming so she could enjoy the playground equipment, but she wanted to bring a basketball, wanted to try to play. We didn't have one, so I told her to just use one of the other rubber playground balls we had, which disturbed her beyond belief. I…was convinced that she'd try it and the nets would be too high, or she'd be too inexperienced, and she'd be bored with it almost immediately, so why buy an entirely new ball that I was just going to have to find a place to store eventually anyway..."

"She was a natural?"

"No, not at all. But the kid wouldn't give up. She practiced again and again. She was so stubborn and so tenacious…"

House made a shot that missed, bouncing wildly beyond the net, which Cuddy trotted off after and passed back to him once she reached the end of the court. "For a long time, my mom liked to remind me that Rachel was adopted. Don't get me wrong, she loved her just as much as she loved the other grandchildren, but sometimes I think…she just wanted to remind me that I failed to produce biological offspring. She thought it was the result of my obsession with my career or an unwillingness to risk stretch marks."

"You didn't discuss your earlier attempts at motherhood with her?"

"God no. You met her. It would be...yet another thing filed away to use against me as needed. But anyway, she'd occasionally make her little jabs at this particular one of my failures. So Rachel and I were discussing the basketball…and my Mom said, 'Lisa dear, she's exactly like you, a little carbon copy, and when she's a teenager, you had better be ready…' She got through that whole statement, and I just looked at her, waiting for the realization to settle in…and it did. After that, the comments about biological children finally stopped, and...I bought Rachel the basketball."

"So discovering that she was like you made you more or less concerned for the approaching teenage years?"

"So funny because I don't know. I mean, I was good at school, a complete nerd, even in middle school, high school, but…I liked boys…and I really, really liked to be right. My daughter wasn't even near becoming a teenager and I had already formulated a long list of worries. What if she was bullied, or became depressed or suicidal? What if she was too smart and felt like an outcast, or was mocked for being an idiot? What if she was unattractive and couldn't find dates or maybe worse, what if she was gorgeous and I'd have a line of hormonal teenage boys asking her out. Being a mom was so many things, but I never foresaw the amount of worry. I never realized how stressful that part of it would be!"

"I'm sure, particularly for someone like you…" House stopped, concentrating on their unstructured game and trying to allow his statement to fade beyond memory.

"Go ahead," she said.

"Well, for someone like you who wants to…" he thought about trying to word things nicely, be more polite or delicate, and realized this wasn't some fragile stranger, this was Cuddy. She almost always saw through him and would probably be more offended by his attempts to treat her with kid gloves than she would be upset over his honesty. "You're a control freak. You acknowledge this. By definition, children are virtually impossible to completely control"

"They are. And then there's the paradox again, between wanting them to find their own identity, and that desire to choose for them what you want that identity to be!"

"How hard was it…for you to relinquish some of that control?"

"She wasn't that old, but already I had to. And it was…really, really hard. You have no idea how many times your words echoed in my head. About my control issues, my narcissism, about…how damn snobby and uptight I can be…"

"I know it will come as a surprise but sometimes when I'm angry or threatened, I take things based on a grain of truth and I magnify them. At least about the narcissism. The control thing on the other hand..."

"You...you see things, and you were right. Having a kid reminded me...showed me…how many things I had no control over, and at the same time it repeatedly highlighted my flaws.

They moved around the court in relative silence for a while, until he had to go get his cane for support, but returned to the court to play one-handed. "I sometimes wondered what it would have been like raising Rachel…if…you and I had stayed together," she said as she walked over to him and grabbed his sleeve.

She gestured over to some two person swings, obviously put there for the caretakers of children to sit in comfort while watching over their charges.

"Speculation is pointless," he said gruffly as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He added, "Fine, I thought about it too, more so since you came back. Before that...it was easier not to think about."

"I seem to either romanticize our time together or demonize it…it's like you said, there's no in-between with us…even in my speculation."

He smirked at the truth of her statement. "We…were doomed to fail. We were both way too insane to have made that work."

"You …still feel that way? Are we just, having fun screwing each other until the inevitable collapse?"

He smirked at her, looking directly into her eyes, unable to repress that feeling of excitement that came when he saw exactly how sad she was at the thought of the deterioration of their rekindled romance. "Not really. I mean…I told you before nothing is certain, and both you and I don't react well to feeling caged. What I meant though, was…at that time, we were both slightly more fucked up than what we are now. Of course, I'm not the only one here with decision making power."

She smiled and rocked toward him, pressing her shoulder into his arm affectionately quickly before pulling away again. "You're an idiot. We're less hostile now than we were. I think that makes a difference"

"We're tired Cuddy. I've...been tired for a really long time, and you have to agree that recent events have left you exhausted."

She nodded, kicking her feet to get the swing moving again as it had started to slow.

"Do you honestly like it there…at the clinic?" he asked after several moments.

"It's important. Some of those families...some of those kids...wouldn't be getting regular healthcare if it wasn't for these clinics."

"That was a great, big, fat non-answer"

"I don't know where I belong anymore. I've felt like that with everything for too long. All of the things that identified me were stripped away one by one. I was defined as the powerful dean, the person most likely to be able to reign you in, at least professionally, later the strong single mother...I mean, I dealt with the doctors in Princeton, so many brilliant people and now I'm stuck with Snyder. I mean, there are some people there that aren't morons, there really are, Snyder just takes more of my time than anyone else."

"Wanna run away?" he asked.

She smiled at the memory of this game; it was one of those little games he played with her when they were together. The first time he ever asked her that question she got irritated at his callousness, explaining to him exactly why she couldn't run away and taking the question very seriously. She eventually learned that it was a pleasant hypothetical.

One morning she was pouring her coffee, readying herself for a meeting with the board that she was dreading, and he could see the tension in her face, in her walk. He asked her, "Wanna run away?"

"Yea," she answered. "Go get Rachel for me, let's go to Rio."

"I was so hoping you'd pick a place with topless beaches," he answered calmly.

After that they'd play out these discussions to various degrees, dreaming of an escape from all of their problems. The day he _actually_ ran away felt like an even greater betrayal because the bastard actually did it. Part of her wanted to as well, although at the time, certainly not anywhere where she thought he may be.

"Thinking warm places?" she asked.

"Warm or really cold. Fireplaces and warm cozy beds get chicks in the mood," he smiled.

"True, but cold places are not known for topless beaches"

"Good point. Warm it is! I'm serious though, do you want to?"

She thought for a moment, a content but thoughtful grin across her face, "Maybe some day"

"Not much keeping us here…"

"Wilson, Kate, our mothers…those…oh what are they called…ummm…jobs!

"We'd invite Wilson or Kate to visit. Do we _really_ need to see our mothers? And…let's face it, our current employment isn't what it used to be, we could find different jobs"

"I'll think about it"

"You serious?"

"Yea. I'm…finally starting to see past the place that I was. I feel like…I may be able to have a life again…maybe it can be more than just surviving and trying to find ways to ignore the pain. I'll probably always feel a little guilty for…even wanting a life after Rachel…but, I can't just let myself sit and await death."

"There are much better things for you to sit and do"

"Maybe...you and I can really make this work... Find something different for our lives than pain. I don't know if I'll ever be able to run away from it all…but…I won't rule it out"

"So…Wednesday"

"Wednesday…"

"Yea…you…able to give me a ride back to Jersey?" he asked.

"Of course"

"Do you feel like coming back with me? I have to work but…if you feel like it…"

"Do you want me to come?"

"If you want to"

They were stuck in their traditional impasse: each wanting something, in this scenario, wanting the same thing, but each unwilling to be the one who said it for fear of rejection.

"Look, this is stupid. I want to go with you. I want to drive you back, and then stay for a few more days. I'm not going back to work yet anyway. I need you to say what you want, and if you want some time to yourself, you just need to say so, I won't be hurt or upset"

"You wouldn't be hurt if I said I wanted to be alone for a while?" he asked doubtfully.

"Nope," she smiled, "It's not a problem"

"You're a miserable liar. But it's good, because I'm getting used to the almost constant sex and the total adoration you lavish on me"

Cuddy's phone began to ring just as she was about to respond.

"Hey Wilson," she answered.

"How are you?" Wilson inquired.

"Doing pretty well. How are you guys? How's the baby?"

"Fine. So…House…"

"There's that phrase again. What about him?"

"You guys still, getting along?"

"Yea..." Cuddy waited.

"I…kinda need your help"

"Our help?" Cuddy asked, as House grabbed her phone from her hand and placed it against his ear.

"Soo…is it Ann or your tiny little work in progress that needs my mad skills?"


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N-**Thank you to all who read and continue to enjoy. This chapter's reviewers-JessicaClackum, IHeartHouseCuddy, Freddy, phyna, CaptainK8, JamHuddyFan, dmarchl, Abby, HuddyGirl, Kirey, Alex, jehabib1, Josam, ClareBear14 (squee once more my friend :)-such an awesome word 'squee'-Made me smile), thank you for reviewing. I'm so excited to hear that people feel like they can actually see what's going on...that's such a compliment. And, I didn't make you wait too long:)

**Disclaimer**-Don't own them

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><p>From End of Ch 30:<p>

"_I…kinda need your help"_

"_Our help?" Cuddy asked as House grabbed her phone from her hand and placed it against his ear._

"_Soo…is it Ann, or your tiny little work in progress that need my mad skills?"_

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><p>"Neither House," Wilson sighed, "hate to disappoint you, but my family seems to be doing fine."<p>

"Hunh…I'm getting really bad at this whole reading people thing"

"I need to talk to Cuddy though, which is why I called _her_ phone"

"That and you don't have my number…which I think really helps to keep our life on the down-low extra low down"

"May I please talk to Cuddy?"

Cuddy took the phone when House held it out for her. She paced around for a few moments while chatting, mostly to prevent him from taking the phone again, or from being forced to listen to the additional comments he'd inevitably have for Wilson.

Sitting down next to him on the swing after hanging up, she said, hesitantly, "What would you think about stopping in Princeton on our way back to your place? Wilson asked if we'd look at a file for him…he's stumped..."

"Back to Camelot?" House asked.

"We aren't going in to the hospital. We'll meet him at his place."

"Sure," House agreed, making his best attempt to appear unenthusiastic. "Wilson's OK with me seeing where he lives?"

"Of course. Besides, I kinda doubt it's _my_ fantastic diagnostic skills he's really interested in," Cuddy said, as they returned to the car.

"I dunno, after the potential donors zipped up you had some slightly better than mediocre ideas"

"Wow, thanks…" Cuddy said dryly, as she opened her car door and allowed it to hang open to let some of the heat escape. "I'm glad sullying the reputation of your girlfriend is still a favorite pastime."

"It's more of a compliment Cuddy, multimillion dollar donations sort of redefine the term 'high-class escort', wouldn't you say?"

After the car had cooled sufficiently, they got in. Cuddy blasted the air conditioning at her face, eyes closed, carefully considering her next move.

"Why are you worried about this?" House asked. "Is this an 'I hate Wilson's spoiled wife' thing, or an 'I don't feel like working' thing…"

She sighed, grateful for the cold stream of air that was drying the sweat from her face. "It's nothing"

"OK," House replied, sitting back quietly as they returned to her place to gather some things.

"So…if _you_ lie now, I'm guessing that gives _me_ one free lie to use later down the line, is there an expiration date on that?" House asked, watching her for any tell-tale reactions.

"I'm not lying"

"You sort of are. You're definitely tense: body language is rigid, you aren't speaking, you're doing that weird thing with the muscles in your jaw.

"I'm _NOT_ lying," she said, showing her frustration. "I'm just trying to play this whole scenario through"

"Because one or both of us trying to help Wilson is such an incredibly uncomfortable thing," he stated with overt sarcasm.

"No, because you are a know-it-all ass. As you are conveniently proving now"

"No…I don't know if you're lying to yourself or me. We worked together fantastically at Penn, I was a gentleman who assisted in your clinic, where I helped the dumbest doctor alive without berating him. So…you aren't afraid of me being an obnoxious know-it-all ass"

"Thank you for adding 'obnoxious' to the moniker...I clearly forgot that one," Cuddy said, making no other response to his statement and driving under a pretext of calm until pulling into her garage.

As she brought the car to a halt, House held out his hand, "Can I borrow your phone? I want to call Wilson and tell him we'll meet him at the hospital, that way he doesn't have to lug all those pesky papers and scans the whole way to his place…easier that way, don't you agree."

She slammed the gear shift into park and whipped her head to look at him, eyes on fire, "We are NOT going to the hospital"

"There it is…" he lilted before getting out of the car and going into the kitchen.

"There _what_ is?" she questioned angrily.

"You don't want to go to the hospital. You do not want to be seen with me."

"I took you to my clinic…my current job. I let Wilson know what was going on with us…I'm not hiding"

"Wilson found out, I don't think that you 'let' him know anything. And then, you get all control-y and distant over the thought of going back to your precious hospital with the ex-con"

She sat on a chair in the kitchen for seconds before standing back up and walking over to confront him with angry words and an accusatory warning finger, "Ex-con…no. You think this is about me being embarrassed of you? NO! You would automatically take it as me being an elitist wouldn't you?"

"If the opera glasses fit…"

"It isn't about that House"

She was angry, again. She had become angry many times since their reunion. This was far from her first outburst, but largely his anger was kept in check, apart from the few moments where he let his frustration show.

He was no longer able to keep his irritation suppressed. Her attempts at hiding him seemed the ultimate proof of what he had always feared: even _she _knew she was too good for him.

"I'm glad you finally figured it out," he said, almost tauntingly, the anger showing in the lines of his face, "I was beginning to think you were a much bigger moron than what I had suspected all of these years"

"Figured out what House?" she answered, not the least bit phased by the obvious signs of his anger.

"You finally realized you are far too good for the likes of me. Maybe you always realized it, but now you're really embracing it."

She was ready to shout back in anger but just dropped her hands at her sides and walked away, muttering the entire time.

"And…now what Cuddy, you're too good for this discussion? I'm plenty good when you need to reach out to me. When you're too damn embarrassed to be yourself around anyone else but me. I'm fine to lean on, to use to fuck your problems away, but you'd hate for anyone else to know that the picture-perfect Lisa Cuddy still has a soft spot for the bastard with a rap sheet! You _trust _me…in a way you can't trust anyone else…and you _HATE_ that about yourself don't you?"

She poked his chest with the tip of her finger angrily, "I never once used you like that, and you know it. I'm not embarrassed about you, you complete ass. I have two problems with going into that hospital, and…I guess in some ways, going to Princeton with you at all. Instead of giving me a moment to figure out what I was thinking…a moment to collect my thoughts…you decide to try to do what you always do…bully and deflect."

"You didn't ask for a minute to think, you lied and…"

"Why are you being so damned defensive about this?" she interrupted, voice strained with ire.

"I'm not defensive. You're the one with something to hide here"

"And now…you are the one who is lying. You _are_ defensive. You wouldn't understand, you don't care what people think"

"I care about what _you_ think, you infuriating idiot!" he screamed before shaking his head. He was angrier at that moment than he had been in years. Angry at himself for so many of his previous actions. Angry at himself for admitting that tiny little fact that he never wanted anyone else to know: he had always cared about what she thought. She was likely the only person with that honor bestowed upon them. It never stopped him from hurting her or from acting out, but it did always lead him to try to prove his worth to her later, whenever the dust would settle from the most recent disaster. At least it did until their final parting.

"_You_ care, about what _I _think…" she scoffed.

He sighed, walking out toward the kitchen to look aimlessly through the fridge for something he had no intention of getting out. That time, she followed him. She touched his elbow before he jerked it away and went to the cupboard for a glass.

He poured a drink and watched while her finger reached out to swipe away the tiniest drop of liquid that missed the glass and fell to the countertop.

"See…and this is why I will never be good enough for you," he spat angrily, "You can't stand even the tiniest imperfection in your world…the slightest item out of place…and I'm just this…gigantic collection of flaws"

Her eyes danced over him, fueled by frustration, until she pulled the glass from his hand and reached it out to the side of her. She shrugged, looking him coolly in the eye and threw the glass, contents and all, straight down onto the ground next to her, shattering it into thousands of tiny pieces and splattering the beverage everywhere.

She shrugged again, "If you want a mess…there's a mess House…feeling better now?"

His eyes were wide with confusion as he waited patiently for her to get something to clean it up. She didn't get a paper towel to wipe the splatter from her sandaled feet, or a dustpan to sweep the shards into so she could restore safety and order.

They had a standoff there as he waited for her to begin cleaning and she waited for him to react. When neither acquiesced she spun around, stepping over the glass and leaving the room.

He followed her into the living room. "Two reasons?" he said, now much calmer.

"For what, House?"

"You said that you had two reasons that you didn't want to go to the hospital. Are you going to tell me what they are, or are they top secret?"

She looked at him intently for signs of malice or combativeness, but her destruction of property and subsequent acceptance of the resulting disorder in the kitchen seemed to have pacified him.

"Yes. I do. The first is…I'm not embarrassed of _you_...I'm embarrassed of _myself_…of my behavior. That I…put myself in the position that I did, made myself that vulnerable…and, believe it or not, I'm embarrassed on some level that I left…that I…surrendered. My reasons were good, and it was best for Rachel…and me…but I hate walking away from a fight. And I am slightly embarrassed still at allowing the man who assaulted me back into my life…what does that say about me as a woman?"

"That's ridiculous!" he argued.

"You're going to argue on my behalf now? Defend my decisions for me? You wanted to know…I'm telling you…I'm not asking you to agree with my feelings on the matter. This is part of the reason why I didn't tell you when you first asked."

"OK…fine. What's the second reason?"

She averted her gaze, concerned the second reason would hurt him.

"You were the one that started this whole truth thing, Cuddy. If you can't…or won't stick to it, then fine. But don't expect more from me than you are willing to give yourself"

"House…I'm scared. And I don't want to tell you that, because I don't want you to think that I don't trust you…and I don't want you to respect me less _because_ I'm scared."

His expression questioned her but he said nothing verbally.

"Look," she continued, "I don't want to walk back in there, and see everything that you've become slip away. I don't want us to lose everything we're trying to build because of that…_place_."

"Why would we? Things have changed…You aren't my boss…I'm not your employee. We don't even really work together. We're there for Wilson"

"My last few memories there were all…really, really awful House."

"Mine too," he added his expression somber, "But, I'm not going to walk through the doors and instantly consume a bottle of Vicodin, provoke a lawsuit and call a hooker. I'm not going to be the same drugged-up man that I was just because we are inside that particular structure."

She nodded, "You're right"

"But…we aren't going there…we're going to Wilson's"

"Yes"

"If we do go to the hospital…at some point…some day…we can actually be OK."

"We've only been back together a few weeks. I know it feels like longer, because we have so much history…but this…" She signaled between them, "is still very new. If we…fuck this up this time…"

"I know," he answered, stopping her before she could finish that sentence.

* * *

><p>House gathered the remainder of his belongings from her room to take to Wilson's. Cuddy repacked her rolling case of things, somewhat nervous about the next few days, but there was some part of her that was also excited. Under it all, there was always a strange sense of excitement that remained after their spirited disagreements.<p>

The tension in the home had largely dissipated. "I still think it would be fun to go back there, reenact some of our better moments…" he said, as they carried their things to the garage.

She smirked, "does it always go there with you?"

"Don't you find comfort in the fact that some things never change in the least? Can't really seem to tame that part of me… But…" he added, and he shoved their things in the trunk and slammed the lid shut. "Despite the fact that you were actually a very good boss…I will never, ever work for you again. Just, in case that thought crosses your mind"

"Oh god no!" She responded. "Trust me, I believe we are complicated enough without adding a position of authority to our dynamic"

"Let's not outright dismiss any 'positions' Cuddy…subordinate…authority…can be very fun words. But I'm glad we've agreed that neither of us should be seeking employment from the other"

"If…it gets weird…being there. We leave," she said sternly, handing him the keys and slipping into the car on the passenger's side.

"OK," he answered. "Do you…really feel like I'm some crazed woman beater…under it all?" he tried with everything not to sound hurt or concerned, but he couldn't hide the look in his eyes. "I thought we talked about this…I thought…"

"We did. And I meant everything I said. But, people on the outside don't know. They don't see how you've been, or know the strange and convoluted relationship we seem to nurture. I don't want people to think that I think it's OK for a man to treat a woman like that. And…I'm pretty sure that, given time, you'll prove to them all that you're still usually a condescending jerk to most people and an ass who ogles and objectifies me. So...from the outside looking in, little has changed."

"Nobody ogles you like I do," he said in a particularly obnoxious way while scratching his stomach.

She shook her head with disbelief but couldn't suppress a giggle, "Let's…give this whole Wilson thing a try…at his house…not the hospital…"

"Agreed…this is gonna be so fun, I love playing doctor."

They gathered their things, packed up Cuddy's car and were off to Wilson's.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N**-_thanks so much to all who read and reviewed since the last time. Your comments are so interesting to hear. I'm glad this feels like watching an episode (that comment made me super happy dmarchl) and that others see the complications involved in allowing someone who has displayed abusive tendencies back into one's life…it's complex, but they always are complicated…it's why they are so cool. Thanks to IHeartHouseCuddy, ClareBear14, JessicaClackum, Josam, TheHouseWitch, HuddyGirl, Alex, Abby, momsboys, berenice, JamHuddyFan, Melo03, dmarchl and Kirey…you all really keep me going!_

_OK…this is my first foray into the medical stuff…I know absolutely nothing about the field of medicine…NOTHING!_

_If you work in medicine, know someone in medicine, heck if you once walked past doctor, you probably know more than I do. What I researched here is real, but I'm out of my element…and since my budget for a research team is nada…well you get my drift. _

_With this chapter and the next few, I decided to do just enough research to make it believable, but not enough to slow down the story… There are a few of you who might hunt me down if I take too long to post :)_

_Anyway…I tried...i really did, but I'm sorry for any Medical errors in advance…on with the story…_

**Disclaimer**-don't own 'em…yea, you know who I mean.

* * *

><p>"Mary Ross, 32 year-old female, history of breast cancer. She had a double mastectomy nearly two years ago since she had some serious family history," Wilson said as he slid files across the large dining room table to his two friends, who made the drive from Baltimore and were then seated at his home in Princeton.<p>

Wilson and Ann's home was impressive to say the least, each room finely furnished and somewhat larger than necessary. Wilson had copies of the files made for each of them, and test results and images spread across the table for them to review.

"Cancer…so weird, what with you being an oncologist and all. I can see why you're confused," House sneered before grinning at Wilson and then turned his attention to the information in front of him.

"She's been cancer free," Wilson glared, "since the mastectomy. I've done all of her follow-ups personally. Two weeks ago, I was notified that she came in through the ER…with a heart attack."

"Why are _you_ doing the follow-ups yourself?" House asked.

"I treated her, and her mother, and her sister. She's the only one to survive. Her mother went from diagnosis to death within six weeks, her sister made it nine. Mary only went for the mammogram after her sister's diagnosis…which caught it very early. Had she not done that…she'd be dead too. Anyway, two weeks ago, treated her for low potassium, unable to find an underlying cause, set her up for a follow-up with a cardiologist because of the heart attack. Then two days ago…a second heart attack."

"She on birth control…smoke?" Cuddy asked.

"Neither. She's never been on the pill, or much of anything else for that matter except for her cancer treatment"

"She isn't overweight or out of shape," Wilson continued, "even before the cancer, she was the picture of health. The woman eats very well, exercises regularly and has no family history of heart problems."

"So, we have Melba here…" House started before Wilson interrupted.

"Mary!"

"Right, so we have a 32 year-old patient with heart attacks, very high blood pressure, extremely low potassium levels, and extreme fatigue," House said, while still delving into the files.

"Well, and then, yesterday, I received a call from the hospital right before I called the two of you. She has had muscle pain and spasming, which is easily attributable to the low potassium, but now she's having bilateral paralysis in her legs. I have them running an EKG tonight and an echo. We're also running new CT's and MRI's to look for any changes…but…"

"Family history of kidney problems? Diabetes?" House asked.

"Nope," Wilson responded.

"Maybe an aldosteronoma?" Cuddy suggested.

"Thinking Conn's?" House asked.

"I'll have them check blood renin, and MRI the kidneys and adrenal glands to check for tumors or hyperplasia. Conn's would explain the symptoms, but kidneys looked healthy from what I've seen."

"Potassium deficiency explains the heart attack and the muscle spasms…" House answered.

"But what explains the potassium deficiency? Levels when she came in were 2.3, well below anything near safe," Cuddy responded, reading the file.

"Until the test results come back, we have some time to kill," House said calmly.

Cuddy smiled before standing, "I'm gonna go say hi to Ann."

As she walked past, she let her hand graze along House's shoulders. Wilson flashed a small grin at the sweet familiarity of the gesture.

"If you like that you should see how she touches my…"

"Shut up," Wilson said, holding up his hands to stop his friend from continuing, "I know _all_ about how she is anyway"

"What?" House said, looking to see if his friend was teasing or serious.

"She…didn't tell you?"

House tried to turn his scowl into a smile unsuccessfully as he still couldn't tell if there was truth in the statement. He could feel anger and near-nausea creeping in as he sat there. "Well she did say she didn't really see anyone of consequence, I should have assumed that was you."

"You left her like that with such a mess. I tried to help her get her life back together…and… it was a drunken mistake…I'm sure she would have told you if you asked her."

House's face was flushed as he felt the heat of irritation spread across his skin, still uncertain if Wilson was toying with him or telling the truth. He hated this feeling, because he knew that he had no right to expect her to be faithful to him, particularly after everything that happened between them, but ever since their first encounter the thought of her giving herself to any other man, was the most disturbing sensation that a thought alone could create.

He closed his mouth abruptly once he realized it was open and put his hands on the table to stand, until Wilson started laughing, "Why is it always so easy to get to you like that?"

House breathed out a loud sigh that he wished Wilson hadn't heard but he couldn't suppress the flood of relief that resulted from Wilson's admission. "So you didn't…" House asked, trying to sound unaffected.

"Of course not…"

"Thank god! I was hoping Cuddy didn't have to stoop that low…I'd hate to think of her suffering through that!" he said with all of the insecure bravado he held within.

"Right…nice cover… How many times is same trick going to bother you?" Wilson said, shaking his head.

"As many times as it comes up. Now, why am I here?"

"My patient has been through hell…she's lost half of her family, she's sat back and waited while…"

"You could have shared any of this information over the phone"

"Wanted you to see the scans"

"Email works…"

"Heard of Privacy Laws? Besides, it's faster to have you here if something changes"

"You wanted to check up on me…or more likely me-n-Cuddy"

"I want to save this woman's life"

"While checking on us"

"Maybe," Wilson offered. "So…"

"So…"

"How are you guys?"

"We _were_ happy hiding at her place and having sex for our last few days of alone time until you called and interrupted because you are too attached to a patient…again…and sticking your nose in my business… again"

"You guys seemed happy at the beach...but, you've seemed happy before"

"Stop worrying"

"I really want this to work. I really thought Cuddy was going to have to spend the rest of her life alone. I know I assumed you'd spend the rest of your life alone. You screwed up…_big_ last time. So much bigger than I thought you'd _ever_ screw up. You…completely redefined the depths of your insanity, and that…was not easy to do."

"I know," House said calmly.

"How are you going to keep from ending up in the same place, all over again, in a year? You need to learn to talk to each other. Have you considered couple's therapy? I don't know…to…work through the past, or…even preemptively…"

"Yes, of course, we were going to ask you because no one knows as much about successful relationships as you…" House mocked before an abrupt shift in tone. "We're trying to talk about things like adults and certainly don't need you nosing around to tell us that we're fucked up."

"Like feelings and expectations…you're talking about those kinds of things?"

"You just won't be happy until I hack off my balls and hand them to you on a pink fluffy pillow will you?"

"She's slee…ping…" Cuddy said as she walked into the room, surprised to find both men looking at her and stopping mid-word when she could see she was clearly interrupting. "I'll come back later," she added, smiling dutifully before turning to leave the room to allow the men to continue their discussion.

"No," House said as he grasped her wrist and pulled her back toward his chair, "Wilson's done interrogating me…for now..."

"OK…" Cuddy answered, "Ann's asleep. So I came back"

"I'll…go order the additional tests on my patient," Wilson said, leaving them alone in the room.

Cuddy smiled at House sweetly getting ready to speak until he said whispering, "Is this past…between us…too much?"

"No"

"If it is…you need to tell me"

"I said it isn't"

"I don't want you to feel that you have to make sacrifices that compromise you who are"

"I don't want you to feel as if you are a collection of flaws," she answered.

"I don't want some underlying part of you to always assume that I may at some point become violent"

"I don't think that. You were pretty pissed off earlier…"

"Hey, I didn't even get close to lifting a finger, so don't…"

"Listen," she interrupted, "I know. I know you didn't get close to any sort of physical outburst…that was my point. You didn't any other time these last few weeks either. And, in regards to the violence issue, you have 20 years of proof that you don't act that way toward me…except that one day. Now, when you chose to embrace that, you definitely went miles too far, but…" she ran her fingers through her hair thinking about what she wanted to say very carefully.

She sighed before she continued, "I don't think that you could do anything to hurt me if you actually had to look at me when you did it, and I'm hoping there's no possible way at all as long as you're clean. I'm going to accept this as a tantrum…an act of you against one of my _things_…that had the clear potential to hurt me…but in the end, I don't think your actual intention was to cause me bodily harm. _That_ is how I need to see it...for me...unless you prove me wrong."

"I know you hate to be pitied...or seen as weak"

"To be perfectly honest...you've always been verbally abusive…sometimes emotionally…but I think you're trying. And strangely, your bluntness actually drew me back to you…not sure that says anything good about me…I want to accept you as you are…for real this time. I…think you see what your behavior has done to you…and…I think you learned something"

"I'm trying"

"So am I. Some of my behavior has been deeply questionable. I learned something…I really did…because I can be a huge hypocrite and the control thing…."

"You'll always have to deal with my cruel side, and I'll always have to deal with your controlling side…"

"I'd rather learn to put up with it, than live without it. Go ahead and insert your mocking here…"

He just smirked, unwilling to let go of the feeling he was enjoying at the moment.

"It is hard…it's really hard...but…it's worth it. If you relapse again House," she said.

"Don't worry about it, if I relapse we're done. I earn what I get, I know"

"No," she said, sternly, that's not what I said. "I told you I wasn't letting this go lightly, I told you this is important. But…if you relapse, I'll need to protect myself until I think I'm safe, and we may have to consider getting you more formal help. This is part of the problem. You still see yourself as easily dispensable. That's what I did to you. I made you feel as if you didn't matter…as if you weren't good enough. I treated you as if I could cut you off that easily…so why wouldn't you feel that way! The only steadfast future deal breaker is the assault…that goes for me…or my things."

He looked serious and regretful, almost like a disgruntled child as her words hit him. He pulled her down onto his lap, her weight on his left side as he kissed her with obvious sincerity.

She rested her hand against his chest, "_This_ is not a challenge," she said in a warning tone, "I'm really not going to have sex with you at Wilson's dinner table"

He chuckled at the joke, "I feel bad for the table, I seriously doubt those two have given it any action."

She smiled, "Even still, it's not our job to make sure all of their furniture has been baptized, we have our own furniture, two residences worth, that needs us."

"After our fight…I'm just reminding myself that you're still mine," he said, almost immediately regretting the confession and kissing her to attempt to bury her response.

His words surprised her, but she recognized how uncomfortable he was with the statement, "_You_…aren't trying to have sex with me?" she joked.

"Not this second. Let's slip Wilson a roofie and have our mutual way with him," he said, loudly enough for Wilson to hear from just beyond the door.

"You're sick, House," Wilson said as he walked back into the room with Ann, who had a clearly concerned look on her face.

"You're awake," Cuddy said as she rose to hug the woman, "I swear your belly's doubled in size since last time I saw you!"

"About two more months of this!" Ann said as she pointed to her stomach before returning the hug, "I've been thinking about you. You look fantastic"

House felt immediately uneasy with the woman in the room. He was protective of Cuddy, so much more so than he'd ever want to admit. Ann's expanding abdomen and increasingly awkward waddle were signs, real tangible reminders, of some of what Cuddy had missed out on. He felt angry for the part he'd played in the deficits in her life. What if he would have tried an honest relationship with her decades before or at been more helpful in her attempts at IVF or even just stepped away from her life to allow her to find another man who could have done those things for her?

House stirred from his thoughts to see Ann placing Cuddy's hand on her stomach to feel the baby kick. He felt the scowl settling in on his face until he saw Cuddy's expression. She didn't look sad or forlorn, she looked happy, grinning softly at the fluttering sensation below her palm.

"Want to feel him move?" Ann asked House.

He responded swiftly, "Nope!"

The two women appeared unaffected by the rejection of Ann's offer. Wilson walked over to them, 'accidentally' smacking the back of House's head with his elbow while he walked past.

"You guys are welcome to stay with us, or are you staying somewhere else?" Ann asked.

House answered, "Hotel" and Cuddy answered, "Thanks!" simultaneously.

"We didn't talk about it yet," Cuddy replied honestly.

"Stay here, really, we have plenty of room," Ann offered.

"OK," Cuddy said, turning to House while nodding her head to make sure she had his consent. He eventually shrugged in quasi-agreement, or at least the closest to agreement that Cuddy thought she could get in this situation.

"I'll help you get settled in," Wilson said, "hopefully by morning we'll have some test results to work off of."

* * *

><p>Later in their room, House scowled at the audacity of the décor, which practically oozed snobbery. "We could be having hotel sex right now…frightening the neighbors…" he suggested.<p>

"We'd probably still be driving there," she answered, "since we're already here…"

"Hard to enjoy it when all I can think about is how much I wish we were having hotel sex"

"We'll have sex here"

"Right …"

He stopped as she pulled her shirt and bra off, and began to seductively crawl up the bed toward him without any hesitation or delay. "You're kidding?" he said.

She shook her head no as her eyes flirted seductively. "I was thinking we had that fantastic fight," she said as her hands gripped his hips roughly to scoot him where she wanted him before she pulled off his shirt. "But after that fight, we completely forgot the makeup sex."

She let her nose and lips wander along his neck, her hands settling on his lower belly, nails gently scraping the skin. "And then I thought, if we don't have make up sex, there's no way you'll know that we made up…I can't do that to you," she pulled back just enough to look at him, to see that aroused slightly amused look he usually got at the promise of playful sex.

"It's all about communication," she said, as she picked up his hands from the bed and placed them on her breasts. "You don't usually need coercion, you feeling OK?"

He nodded as he sat there, thinking about how lucky he was, about the fact that he thought no one would actually believe she was "his." Just as he was feeling as if he was the luckiest man in the world, Wilson knocked at the door. "Guys, I'm going in to the hospital, my patient just had a stroke."

"I hate him so much!" House griped, "it's like he has a sensor," he said, as he groped clumsily around until planting a hand on her ass cheek, "it's gotta be here…"

Cuddy jumped up, threw her shirt over her head and answered the door.

"Sorry guys, she just had a stroke, I need to get in there, see if there's anything I can do"

House groaned loudly as he stood up and limped over to Wilson, stopping briefly to peck Cuddy's cheek. "I'll be back, I'm going in"

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Wilson said.

"You want help…I can be helpful if I'm actually there…maybe I'll see something. You staying here?" he asked Cuddy, with a small grin he couldn't hide. "Oh come on, it's been a few years, I doubt any of them remember us anyway."

Looking at House incredulously, Wilson said, "Oh…I think they remember…"

House turned to Cuddy, leaning down towards her, "I've got the solution. We walk into the lobby, you can punch me in the face…we'll call it even. You can reassert your dominance within the first ten feet," he said, making sure she understood the underlying tones.

"Yes…that's exactly what I want, to feel better by drawing more attention to our dysfunction," she answered sarcastically.

Cuddy grimaced while she thought. "Look, it's up to you," Wilson finally said, "But, it's only the night shift in this late, we should be able to sneak you in without drawing too much attention. I'll get you guys into a DDX room."

"We could just go to your office"

"Nah, we'll stick with the DDX room"

"Wait…why can't we go to your office?"

"Can we let this one go?"

House's expression conveyed that the topic would not be let go since the answer had become far too interesting to ignore.

"Things moved around there a bit…I have your old office"


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N-** _thanks to all of the readers and the reviewers- Belle-Cuddy (and all of her Wilson rage!), JessicaClackum, IHeartHouseCuddy, Asia, TheHouseWitch, RedTulipAna (you're the first one to tell me you wanted to kill me at least in a review), jehabib1 (silly House…), dmarchl (I love to picture the faces of those who knew them), JamHuddyFan, Abby, Alex (yea…I couldn't picture him rushing to feel her belly, wayyyy too un-House!), HuddyGirl, ClareBear14, newdayz (to be friends with House that long, you must be right!), Anon (totally respect where you're at, I'll continue to label chapters or '*' out sections that are adult. That way you and all of the people who agree with you don't have to read it. Wilson's old office…that remains to be seen...which isn't a hook...I honestly don't know), berenice (thank you so much, I need a new job!) :)_

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own these characters_

* * *

><p>As they pulled up to the hospital, it felt like a dream that seems just a bit too real. Cuddy fidgeted nervously in the back of Wilson's car while he drove. The hospital loomed as they closed the distance from the main road back to the structure itself and eventually into the parking garage. Once they parked, Wilson turned to face House, "Now…you don't work here…you have no license, you can observe, but you need to behave, and…in front of my patient, keep your mouth shut. You are here…as my guest, so…try…not to make me regret this!"<p>

"Why hide the new office?" House responded.

"Did you listen to anything I said?"

"Yes of course, no license…something patient, mouth shut, whatever. Why hide the new office?"

"House…you are the single _most_ possessive person I've ever met…don't use my marker, stay away from the piano, don't touch my balls…and don't even say it. You are possessive and you hate change, me in your office...touches on both issues."

House smirked at him. "You're right 'Sees the Truth Man', I guess I can be a little possessive. I'm ready to share, you can touch my balls"

"I hate you," Wilson joked, as he got out of the car. "Cuddy, if you want to wait here, I can take him up and I'll come back and get you so you don't have to be seen with him in public."

Cuddy nodded for a moment before getting out of the car, "This is stupid. I'm not about to hide down here waiting. I don't feel like having cowardice on my list of character flaws."

Cuddy stooped to check her makeup in the side view mirror as House retorted, "Vanity however, that's still on the list, right?"

"Doing my part to stay ogle-worthy," she replied.

He smirked, already feeling like the banter was more fun in this location, after all, they had done some of their best verbal tussling inside of the hospital and he felt much like an artist returning to his studio. Cuddy's heels clicked and echoed confidently through the cement garage as she felt as though she was regaining her poise. Even sneaking into the hospital at night, she was dressed in completely professional attire, as was Wilson.

House studied her momentarily, appreciating the fact that she was looking amazing in the place he had so often seen her look amazing in, but as they walked into the lobby, his mind was immediately drawn to the fact that there was a puzzle waiting for him a few floors up. The draw was absolutely undeniable.

The lobby had the strange familiarity of walking back into a place where one used to live after it was occupied by someone else. All of the major fixtures, elevators, the welcome desk, and the location of the dean's office were all identical, but the color scheme and art work were drastically different, giving the lobby a different feel.

"Who's ruling over the hospital now?" House asked Wilson as he nodded toward the dean's office.

"Simpson"

"Simpson?" Cuddy's shocked voice asked, "From the board Simpson? I thought that Foreman took over!"

"Yea. Foreman was Dean for a short while. Things didn't work out well."

"Foreman and power…" House said as they waited for the elevator.

"Simpson's interim. We had Foreman, then they brought in someone new, who was here two months before he decided it wasn't worth it," Wilson explained.

Feeling somewhat justified in her claims that the job was extremely demanding, Cuddy chuckled until Wilson said, "If you want it, I'm sure the board would be thrilled to have you back…"

House and Cuddy both simultaneously and emphatically said, "NO!"

"OK…" Wilson answered, just as the elevator dinged, and Nurse Regina stepped out, coming face to face with her former boss.

"Dr. Cuddy?" Regina asked confused, but breaking into a smile as she looked at her. "I don't believe it!" she said, offering a hug. "You look better than last time"

"Thank you," Cuddy said, her voice cool and professional. "It's good to see you too."

Cuddy had last seen Regina, and several other staff members from PPTH at Rachel's funeral. Wilson had informed only a few people of the tragedy to prevent Cuddy from feeling overwhelmed with well-wishers and snoopers alike.

"I'm charge nurse for night shift, not bad huh?" Regina said.

"That's wonderful, well deserved," Cuddy added with a smile.

Regina said, taking hold of Cuddy's arm, "Dr. Cuddy I'm so relieved you are coming back…"

"I'm not…just visiting," Cuddy said, nodding over toward Wilson and House.

It was easy to see the exact moment when the realization of the situation hit Nurse Regina. She turned to see Wilson, and as her head turned further to the side to see the other person who was with Wilson, her face adopted a look of complete surprise, "Dr…House?"

"In the flesh"

"Oh my god, this is some sort of weird hostage situation isn't it…" Regina said with a smirk, "When I wake up tomorrow everyone's going to be dying to dissect this dream!"

"Could you please not mention seeing us for a few days…we're here with Wilson and I'd rather keep it quiet."

"Sure thing," Regina responded with the same fondness she had always had for her former boss. "Before you leave again, try to stop by, at least, give me an email or something."

Cuddy stepped on to the elevator with the two men as she said, "They may not recognize us? I was here under two minutes…"

"All of those years of me tormenting staff and patients alike, while you tried desperately to keep me under your control and you are surprised that you were recognized? You were the damn dean…and…you were actually pretty good at it if I remember."

"You owe me then, because that…sounds like you confessing that you lied"

"Initially I thought that no one would recognize us…" he said, knowing already that she wouldn't buy it. "Fine, I was hoping no one would, but mostly I wanted you to come. A…slight manipulation, just to have you near me honey," he said with artificial sweetness as Cuddy scoffed and rolled her eyes, and Wilson shook his head before they both stared at him doubtfully.

"Keep your hands off of her in this hospital, I'm begging you, out of what little respect you have for me," Wilson pleaded.

House gave Wilson a challenging look before putting one finger on Cuddy's shoulder as the elevator doors slid open and they stepped off into what was once again familiar but strangely different territory.

House looked around intently for signals about how the place had changed, but was mostly eager to see his old office again. It was immediately odd that his name, which had been visible on the glass entry door for years, was gone, but the inside was perhaps the most familiar location they had seen since they arrived. Wilson's movie posters hung along the wall, and it was his desk at the back of the office instead of House's, but the lounge chair was still there, as well as the low shelves at the back of the office and the TV.

"Almost like a shrine to me…those rumors about you and I…they were true weren't they?"

"Of course they were," he said sarcastically, "Why wouldn't I want you here…if I change too much, you get possessive and irritating, I change too little and I've maintained a shrine."

"Dr. Wilson," an unfamiliar doctor rushed through the door, provoking in House memories of when his first team at PPTH, young and optimistic, used to walk through that same door with news. "I thought that was you," the attractive but nerdy looking blond said, "both the CT and MRI of the kidneys and adrenal glands didn't show any evidence of tumors. Everything looks normal with the kidneys. Patient is down getting an E..."

The young doctor paid little attention to the two visitors, scarcely acknowledging them until House stepped forward and grabbed his cane from its spot leaning against the wall and a look of awareness crossed her face. One of the few people that wouldn't recognize him obviously recognized him by reputation. "Sorry," she said formally, "Umm…Patient is down getting an EKG now, dehydration is getting worse, and the she's vomiting now in addition to the diarrhea. Arrhythmia seems to be getting worse too."

"Dr. Grant, this is Dr. Cuddy, I brought her in to help me out with this case…off the books," he explained, "and from the almost frightened look on your face, I'm assuming someone on staff filled you in on the ass standing over there"

Grant extended a hand to Cuddy, and then, somewhat more apprehensively, to House. They saw their patient being pushed down the hall as she was returning from testing. "I'm gonna go talk to her," Wilson said, as he, Cuddy and Grant walked down the hall.

House waited behind as the three doctors went to the patient's room, following moments later to sit in the waiting area in the hall and watch the interactions from the safety of outside of the room. The patient had clearly been ill for a while. Her body was weak, eyes sunken, and quite thin. Next to her sat a dutifully present man, who could have been a husband or boyfriend except for an uncanny family resemblance. He stayed near the patient, eyes filled with worry, answering Wilson and Cuddy's questions as necessary while shifting a thermos nervously in his hands that was probably filled with coffee to help him stay vigilantly awake by her side.

After talking to the patient and reviewing test results for hours, they weren't any closer to a diagnosis. Since they had to wait for any additional test results to come in, Grant went home to sleep a few hours, Cuddy finally fell asleep sitting in Wilson's chair, her arms and head resting on the desk. Wilson napped on a sofa in the conference room as House rested comfortably sunken into his lounge chair.

When House woke he was simultaneously comfortable and very uncomfortable. The familiarity of the place was pleasant, the puzzle, the patient, fantastic. His mind was engaged and it made him feel alive and brilliant…a feeling he always treasured. Along with these pleasant memories was the flood of memories of mistakes and missteps that he felt would always plague his thoughts. Although it required extremes for him to feel guilty, once he did something that brought on that emotion, he felt it perhaps more intensely than most people.

Cuddy looked uncomfortable sleeping over the desk, and House realized the complete lack of chivalry, as he and Wilson were comfortably stretched out while she slept like that and thought it seemed strangely indicative of how they had always been.

Banging his cane against the floor and calling her name, House woke Cuddy with a start. "You look uncomfortable," he said smirking.

"Screw you," she muttered as she turned her head the other way and laid it back down on her arm to try to get a little more sleep.

"Cuddy…"

"What?"

"Come here," he said scooting to one side a bit and patting the side of his chest.

She looked up, considering the offer for a moment before laying her head back down and said, words altered slightly by the way half of her mouth was smashed against her arm, "Not entirely appropriate."

"Not entirely _in_appropriate either"

She lifted her head to look at him and consider the offer before she started trudging over to him, deciding that the benefits of more comfortable sleep outweighed the backlash from being caught not only in House's company, but sleeping with him in his chair. Just before she squeezed in next to him she said, "You'll be all crowded, I don't want to hurt your leg"

"I'll be fine, we'll just take our clothes off to get rid of all of that unnecessary fabric that takes up needless space"

She immediately began to head back to the desk until he sat upright and caught her arm, pulling her back, "You don't take up that much space, I'll be good, come on"

She lay down next to him on her side, arms folded across herself as the weight of exhaustion allowed her to drift right back to sleep. He grinned subtly at the realization that despite missteps and acts of cruelty, he was actually right there, at the scene of so many of his crimes, with her. The sun drifted across the room slowly and he thought that he should probably wake her and give her the opportunity to leave or hide before the new shift came in about half an hour. The relative quiet of the night would soon be disrupted with administration and department heads and likely doctors that knew them, but he wasn't ready to deal with those things yet, and opted to enjoy the warm feeling of her sleeping next to him while gazing over some test results that he had tucked next to his chair.

He also realized that part of him somehow wanted everyone to see them. He wanted everyone to know that she had forgiven him. Although he truly didn't care whether anyone else in that building liked him, he cared what Cuddy and Wilson thought, he wanted everyone to know that those two people, the two that mattered, had welcomed him back.

These thoughts were interrupted as Simpson came back through the door, "Wilson…" he said, tense and concerned until he saw the two people sleeping on the chair, "Oh…you have got to be kidding me, you cannot possibly be serious?"

Cuddy slid off of the chair, clearing her throat and attempting to look as alert as possible, "Dr. Simpson…" she said extending her hand.

"Dr. Cuddy, it is, a unique pleasure to see you, although, not necessarily in this place with that person," he said, shaking her hand and then pointing at House.

"Things change," Cuddy shrugged as she diplomatically folded her hands in front of her at her waist.

"Not that much they don't. Where's Wilson?" he asked just as Wilson came into the room.

"I called them in to work with my patient, I'm stumped."

"You're right, you should have called in your diagnostics team instead of us, who's running that department?" House asked as he stood, already knowing what the answer would be.

"We don't have a diagnostics department anymore. It was a waste of money"

"I seriously doubt that. In fact I have a feeling that between my diagnoses and Cuddy's schmoozing, we probably had a few weeks where we brought in more than you're capable of finding in a year…"

"I'm sure, and then we paid out half of it to settle whatever lawsuits were brought against you"

"You can't expect Cuddy to make _all_ of the problems magically disappear, she's not perfect," House sneered.

"They're here, they're free…it's a win for us either way," Wilson said calmly.

"If I catch him in a patient's room, I'm calling security," Simpson pointed at House.

"Fine," Wilson said with a tone of surrender.

Simpson cast him a warning look before leaving the room.

"I think I underestimated just how much time I spent defending you," Cuddy said, yawning, "it's all coming back to me!"

"I'm going to go check on the test results," Wilson said as he walked behind his desk and opened a drawer. He dug around in the back of the drawer for a moment before producing House's red and white tennis ball and tossing it to his friend.

"There ya go, figure something out, before she dies," Wilson said on his way out the door.

Cuddy sat at the table in the conference room reading over the files again, looking for some detail they may have missed. Smiling momentarily as he rocked the tennis ball between his palms, his mind quickly delved deeper into the case at hand. He sat on a chair and began bouncing the tennis ball off of the wall.

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><p><strong>AN2**_-Simpson was seen in a few seasons, he's the older doctor with white hair, largely bald on top...if that rings a bell_


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N**_-as always, thanks to all of the readers and reviewers (since the last chapter), berenice, TheHouseWitch, newdayz (did you hack my computer and read ahead?), IHeartHouseCuddy (only as shallow as I am), JessicaClackum, lanasti16, RedTulipAna, dmarchl, HuddyGirl, Alex, Abby, JamHuddyFan (thanks…I liked Regina in that episode!), bonneiyy77, ClareBear14 (thinky ball), yahnis, Real Anon-(Although I've on occasion discussed different thoughts with a few different people, I've written all of the chapters of my story at my computer, by my lonesome, I don't even use a beta, so I'm responsible for those chapters you like and those you don't and every single error or mistake you'll ever find. I would gladly credit anyone who helped me), Bakerstreet Blues (You invoked one my favorite House moments of all time…I adore watching House when he's emphatically advocating. The "ice flow" transplant hearing…classic)_

**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>House rose from his chair, frustrated with his lack of epiphany, and began searching around the room. After walking over to the conference room table, he grabbed a file, removed one of the test result papers, flipped it over and grabbed a pen. "OK, what causes hypokalemia…"<p>

"Congestive Heart Failure," she said, as he started to write on the blank paper. After thinking a moment, she added, "Anorexia…any sort of eating disorder really…"

She trailed off as she saw him leave the conference room for Wilson's office without explanation, and then return a few moments later.

"What are you looking for?" Cuddy asked.

He picked up her phone from the table and dialed Wilson. "Where's my whiteboard?"

* * *

><p>In a classroom in the lower levels of the building, students listened attentively to their professor. The first row was disproportionately female and of those females, nearly all were well dressed and made up, looking more as if they were prepared to go out than attend a class.<p>

Dr. Chase leaned against the desk at the front of the room explaining new theoretical surgical techniques in his distinctive Australian accent, unintentionally charming several of his students, when the door slapped open against the wall. The half of the classroom that wasn't paying attention jerked in their seats at the noise, but all students sat in shock as the tall man limped across the front of the class room, turning to smile at Chase as he walked in front of him to the whiteboard set up next to the teacher's desk.

He leaned the whiteboard forward to fold it shut, then tucked it awkwardly under his arm and walked back out of the room. He didn't say anything until the door was almost closed when he shouted into the room, "Carry on!"

Chase pressed his lips into a bewildered expression that was almost a frown, looked toward the space where the whiteboard had been moments earlier, then looked out toward his class and said, "Did...that…did that just happen?"

A handful of students answered with nods, while the rest sat idly stunned. Chase held up a finger, "Just…I'll be right back"

He jogged out of the room and into the hall looking at the man waiting for the elevator. Chase caught up with him, moving his arms out to his sides a few times, while grinning "It's…you! There have been rumors of sightings before but, nothing confirmed...'til now."

House returned half a grin, legitimately surprised by just how happy his former fellow looked to see him.

"I'm in!" Chase said earnestly, "You already have a case?"

"Sorry, already have a team"

"I'm better than whoever you have"

"Hmm…didn't expect that. Just needed the whiteboard. I'm here helping out my good buddy Wilson."

"So you aren't back?"

"Just for this one case."

"Only you and Wilson working on this one?"

"Wilson, myself and my lady friend"

"Lady friend?"

"Former Dean Cuddy"

"Cuddy...speaks to you?"

"She does more than speak to me."

"Right…" Chase said, waiting for House to tell the rest of the joke. When House stared calmly at him, "Oh…you guys are…OK..."

"Stop up at Wilson's office when your class is done. I doubt you'll be very helpful, but I missed your hair"

"See you later!" Chase's eyes opened wide and he smiled warmly before returning to his classroom.

* * *

><p>Wilson arrived back at his office with some test results seconds before House burst through the conference room door and promptly set up the whiteboard. "She's as good as better…now all we have to do is figure out what goes on here to bridge the gap between not knowing and knowing. You said CHF, and anorexia," he said, pointing at Cuddy.<p>

House listed the two possible causes of low potassium levels and turned over his shoulder, flashing a grin, "Heart seems healthy, and if it were anorexia, symptoms would have improved with IV fluids. What else?"

"Liddle's," Cuddy answered.

"There we go," House said as he wrote, then walked over to look at test results again, "but…Aldosterone levels aren't low enough."

House crossed the newly added item off of the list again.

"Addison's explains heart issues and the gastrointestinal symptoms…but renin's too high," Cuddy added.

"What about simpler…Cirrhosis?" House suggested.

"Alk-Phos and Bilirubin are normal, but we could biopsy the liver to be sure," Wilson said.

"Check the kidney's again, there's a tumor there…we just aren't seeing it," House said with certainty.

Wilson called in more tests as Cuddy left for the bathroom.

House leaned back in his chair, balancing on the two back legs and twirling the marker between two fingers. When Cuddy returned she leaned back against the table in front of him while Wilson finished his phone calls.

"Who can drink that much coffee when they're sick?" she asked House.

He was staring off into the distance and looked at her for more clarification. She added, "When my stomach is upset like that, particularly if I'm throwing up…I can't drink coffee."

"Coffee wouldn't settle her nausea…which certainly wouldn't help to stop potassium loss…but she had low potassium before she got the nausea. Where'd she get coffee…I can't believe they'd be giving her anything except maybe clear fluids..."

"Maybe her brother brought that thermos? I'm sure Wilson knows…"

House stood abruptly, walking past Cuddy and a startled Wilson, who, recognizing the look in House's eye, ended his phone call to see what was going on.

Chase was walking down the hallway toward the office, ready to offer a greeting to Cuddy and ask about the case, but wasn't given the opportunity. House motioned for him to turn around and follow them to the patient's room. He was just about to step in when he remembered Simpson's warnings. "Wheel her on out here," House said to Chase, and then turned to Cuddy, wordlessly repeating his request.

She went in without hesitation and released the brakes on the hospital bed as Chase stood in the hall. "OK, I admit it," House said to Chase, "it isn't just your hair, I missed your ability to take direction and your big strong muscles too…Go!"

Chase went in to assist Cuddy, wheeling the patient out into the hall. Even without the paralysis, it was unlikely the patient would be able to stand. Her body was sunken into the bed, eyes tired and obviously weary. "Tummy ache?" House asked.

The patient nodded her head. "Your brother give you that to help?" House pointed to the silver cup that doubled as a lid to the thermos, which was in her hand and filled with warm liquid.

"It helps," the patient muttered.

"Licorice?"

"Yea"

"Did you…start that when you were being treated for cancer?"

"During chemo…it was the only thing that helped," her brother responded.

"Right…but, after chemo…you kept taking it?"

"Took me a while to get back to my exercise regimen, the licorice tea is supposed to help prevent weight gain…and…I like it," the patient answered.

"Interestingly enough, profuse vomiting and diarrhea also prevent weight gain…but can promote death…tradeoffs! How much of that do you drink?"

"A decent amount, I just drink this...and water when I exercise. I wanted to cut out coffee. I like the candy too, but it's all natural, organic, not that fake processed stuff."

"The fake processed crap would have been safer in your case. You gave this to her?" House asked the patients brother, "Are you a natural medicine expert, or home remedy aficionado?"

"I know people," he answered.

"You know morons who almost killed your sister. Licorice is great stuff, for about a month at a time…maybe two…and in drastically lower dosages than what you've been taking it. You started it for the chemo, which is actually good for your liver during treatment and yea, I'm sure it eased your stomach a bit. But the glycyrrhizin in it…over long term, not so good for you. Some people are more susceptible to complications than others, but, over such an extensive period, it can be dangerous. The glycyrrhizin caused the low potassium, which triggered all of your heart symptoms. Then it causes nausea, so you step up the licorice, which only makes it worse…"

"So…my tea…is killing me?"

"If I wasn't so out of practice…I would have known to suspect family…"

"My legs…"

"Once you're less 'health conscious' your legs will be fine, your heart should be too…the muscle needs potassium to function properly. Treatment…replace potassium, ignore the brother."

Chase was standing next to him, "So I miss all of the build up and arrive for the diagnosis…not as much fun."

Watching House with a look of genuine admiration, Cuddy momentarily held his gaze until their attention was caught by movement along the periphery. There were doctors, nurses, a few patients, and one irritated looking interim dean watching them. Cuddy bit her lower lip and held out her hand for him to take.

He gazed down on her offered hand for a minute, entirely surprised by her willingness to associate herself so closely and publicly with him in that setting. After allowing her plenty of time to rethink her offer, he grasped her hand and they began to walk down the hall.

"You are amazing," she said, with an adamant tone that made her compliment sound entirely genuine, without a hint of flattery.

"You noticed the 'coffee'…I like a woman with finely tuned observational skills. Let's go get a donut, that healthy crap'll kill ya."

Had they turned around, they would have seen the crowd of people still watching them while Wilson and Chase wheeled the patient back into her room and ordered the necessary treatment. The only person in the hall not watching the retreating couple, was the brother, who stood there, staring at the thermos and cup that he took back from his sister, consumed with guilt.

Simpson caught up with them as they waited for the elevator. "House…" he called.

House breathed in deeply and blew the air out slowly, while he waited for Simpson to tell him about whatever fault he had committed, or to threaten him again with hospital security.

"You said," House answered before Simpson could speak, "That I couldn't go into a patients room…"

"I know. This, underscores exactly what I already knew, you will find ways to work around rules whenever it suits you."

"He did save the patient," Cuddy said calmly, "and…like it or not, the fact that he gets around the rules has always been one of his more infuriating strengths…and it saves lives. It made me crazy too, but…I always accepted that sometimes…it worked."

"Thank you," Simpson said genuinely, prompting a reaction of surprise from both House and Cuddy. "I'll…arrange for you to each receive a small stipend for your services, at least to reimburse your expenses."

"Wait…did you just thank…me?" House asked.

"Yea, I'm so glad I don't have to deal with you regularly, because you're still an obnoxious jerk, but…I still have to appreciate what you did. Send me your contact info, maybe if we need you again some time?"

House barely nodded, but agreed nonetheless. Simpson turned to Cuddy, "The hospital needs you. Any interest in coming back?"

"No," she said frankly, "I'm done with hospital administration…but…thanks."

Simpson shrugged and walked away, turning to add, "If you change your mind…" before leaving.

House and Cuddy stepped onto the elevator. "So…you really aren't coming back here…taking your rightful position as dean back from the hands of the idiots?"

"I told you, I'm done trying to rule the world"

"Well, I know you _said_ that…"

"I meant it. I don't want to repeat the same mistakes over and over until I'm on my deathbed wondering what I missed out on"

"So…you're sticking with the clinic?"

"I don't know. I didn't realize how much better it was to try to deal with competent insanity than with incompetent idiocy. Working there is…soul deadening. I know how I am. I come back here and then I think it's a good idea for you to come back here, my focus goes right back to where it always was, which the neatly orchestrating perfection…or…trying too…I thought we agreed we were doing something different."

It was obvious that House was thinking, although from his expression and body language, she had no idea what thoughts were running through his head. "You…are an addict," House said as he stepped off of the elevator and walked to the cafeteria.

"Wait…what?"

"You are an addict, every bit as much of one as I ever have been…or am…or whatever theory of addiction you subscribe to."

"I don't…" she began to retort until he interrupted her.

"You know where I'm going with this. You're addicted to the control, the thrill and the challenge…and like any good junkie, I assumed that if someone held out a hypodermic and a vial of the sweet stuff…you'd be right back on it."

"That's…completely…" she shook her head, moving her hands somewhat rapidly as she tried to compose her thoughts…"OK…it's pretty true. But if I were to continue your metaphor, I'd say that I know that if I relapse, it will probably be harder to quit next time, and I don't know if I can do all that again."

House nodded with a look of impressed understanding, largely because he thought she'd be more resistant to the comparison.

"Does that mean I should assume that if someone held out a bottle of Vicodin you'd relapse on the spot?"

"Not really. I mean…I acknowledge the fact that if I take Vicodin, I likely won't stop…undesirable behaviors will result…leads to a whole gigantic cycle of things for me to deal with later…Your addiction, is way more fucked up than mine."

She gasped softly, her expression, offended, "I can't…" she thought for a moment longer. "Fine," she said before getting in the line at the cafeteria.

"Fine? Are you…angry?"

"No," she said as she grabbed a tray and placed it on the counter.

He touched her arm, turning her to him, holding up the line. "So…you are accepting that?"

"Well, I don't like it…but it has its elements of truth. Although, you must admit, I find slightly more socially acceptable expressions of my addiction."

"Granted, on the surface. Although the effects on those around you..."

She continued down the line, turning back to him to make a comment about him finally buying her breakfast in the cafeteria, and she noticed he had a soft smile on his face. "What?" she asked.

"Thank you," he said, feeling pleased that she had been so open to his opinion on the matter, as he patted his clothing to locate his wallet.

Chase stepped to the front of the line, holding out cash to pay for their meals. "I'm buying, we can catch up!" Chase said, smiling widely before walking with them to their table.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N**-_Thank you to all who have read this story and were kind enough to comment since the last time: skieathuddyrepeat, JamHuddyFan, allthingsdecent, bonneiyy77, lenasti16, HuddyGirl, Alex, Boo's House, Abby, Bakerstreet Blues, dmarchl, RedTulipAna, Josam, ClareBear14, IHeartHouseCuddy, JessicaClackum _

_Been a teeny bit busy 'round these parts...hope you enjoy the update.  
><em>

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own any of the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>Chase sat down facing his two former bosses, "So, neither of you are coming back? House, I'm not all that attached to it here, so if you find yourself somewhere and are in need of a skilled surgeon who's used to your abuse…"<p>

"I'm in research at Penn and she's a full time crotch swabbing scheduler," House said, as he hungrily ate his food. They hadn't had a good meal in quite a while and solving the case allowed his body to pay more attention to its basic needs again.

"OK…Didn't expect that. Cuddy…you're…swabbing..."

"I run free clinics in Baltimore, so I tell others to do the swabbing," she said, forcing a smile.

"I'm sorry…I completely lost my head, I'm so sorry about Rachel…when everything happened I was visiting home…"

"Thanks," she said, quickly trying to change the subject. She felt House move almost imperceptibly closer to her, feeling the warmth of him against her arm, although she couldn't tell if the gesture was sympathetic or protective.

She asked Chase, "You don't like surgery anymore?"

"Surgery is…not as exciting as working for House. I think it gets to you. It's pretty amazing, I mean, surgery, so literally holding someone's life in your hands, and I…miss the team. After you…left…the department was dissolved pretty quickly. Foreman became dean for almost a year. It did not work out exceptionally well. He's at Columbia...Neurology. Taub of course scurried back to Plastic Surgery, which is good because I'm sure he needed the money! 13's actually doing some exchange program in Guatemala, although I still speak to her from time to time, I'm guessing she'll be back in the next few months."

"13…is in Guatemala?" House questioned.

"She was working here, and then, one day, just announced that she hated it. Needed something drastically different. So she said before the Huntington's took over, she was going to travel and work."

"You started teaching?" House asked.

"All staff must teach one class per year minimum. One of Simpson's rules. It's not too bad"

"Who's head of surgery?"

"Hourani"

"Ahh Hourani," House said, reminiscing momentarily over the man he had so often enjoyed messing with during his tenure in Princeton. Screwing with Hourani, specifically his surgery schedule or the sanitary conditions of the OR in order to more quickly meet his own patient's needs, was one of House's true joys.

A few doctors from Ped's were staring over at the trio from the lunch line. Cuddy laid a hand on House's forearm, "I'm gonna go say hi" she said, before smiling sweetly and walking over to the group of doctors.

"She seems…happy," Chase said, "I mean…honestly happy…it looks…_weird_ on her."

House looked over at Cuddy, who was chatting happily with the group of doctors, so much more comfortable talking with them now that she was no longer required to keep a constant air of professionalism. He realized this was likely why she had so few friends while she worked there. Besides a grueling work schedule, her need to be the epitome of the successful professional was every bit as isolating as House's behavior. It was so ironic that far too much, or far too little, formality could lead to essentially the same result. In so many ways they were identical opposites; yet another strangely opposing yet similar element in their dynamic.

Chase noticed his distraction and his line of sight, realizing that House had both the look of interest that he so often had when deep in observation and also a look of admiration. "You must be very…gifted to get another chance after what you did…or perhaps lucky"

"Probably both"

"What's with all of the touchy-feely stuff?"

"What touchy-feely stuff?" House sneered.

"Oh come on, the public hand holding, little touches…neither of you really even smiled at each other the last time you dated, at least not…in front of anyone."

"She was always the one that was more reserved about public displays of affection."

"You don't even like to hug people, much less show more genuine affection!"

"I don't like to hugging every idiot that wants a hug, but I certainly don't mind the woman that I like showing me some attention. Anyway, I'm less of an ass, she's less worried about what other people think I guess. Probably helps that she doesn't have to be my boss. Tiny nudges in either direction seem to have improved things drastically."

"I can't imagine the fights at your place, your neighbors must hate you. Watching you and Cuddy hash out your disagreements was…always an education."

"We still fight but…since we're done with being lonely and wretched it's slightly less volatile. We were always close to being good together before, usually just a matter of timing, or…the fact that we were both almost completely intolerable for longer than ten minutes at a time."

"You're both unbelievably stubborn. And competitive."

"Don't know where you'd get that idea. We're…trying something different."

"What's that?"

"Honesty"

Chase scoffed, "Right…of course…that completely fits with your personal philosophy. Everybody lies, right?"

"Sure"

"Are you…you're serious? Dumping the tried and true adage?"

"No. Everybody still lies. Everybody will always lie. But…everybody doesn't have to lie to everyone, all of the time."

"My god…you're really serious about this. Jail…must have been transformative."

"No, jail was…confining"

Chase chuckled a bit, "Naturally"

"I had to get out of here…I was stuck having to be me around people who already knew who I was. I needed to be somewhere new. Somewhere without constant reminders of a lot of things I'd rather forget."

"So no more diagnostics then…ever?"

"Don't know. Not here…too many bodies buried beneath the floorboards. Going back to the exact same thing isn't a good idea when that always seems to lead to the same result. I'm getting to old to keep doing this...I'm almost 40 you know..."

"Of course, and I'll be 25 soon," he said with a doubtful expression before the overall meaning of House's words hit him. Chase adopted a look of understanding as he could sense the weight of the thoughts on House's mind.

"Have you…spoken to Cameron?" House asked softly, as he folded discarded straw wrappers into tight accordion patterns with his fingers.

"On occasion. She likes to remain friendly…"

"About all of that…"

"It's over. I think…things worked out for the best anyway. She's happy, I'm happy…"

As he finished speaking Wilson's assistant, Dr. Grant, walked over to their table.

"Hi Robert," she smiled, "Can you look at something for me later? I have a patient who needs some tumors removed, I wanted to get your opinion."

"Sure, I'll be up in minute."

"I heard you solved our case!" Grant said to House, "nice work, thanks. That family has seen enough tragedy and death for two lifetimes."

She smiled at both men before retreating.

"Hi Robert!" House mocked in a high pitched, overly feminine tone.

"Actually is my name"

"Do you ever get tired of all of that doe-eyed admiration?"

"Not yet. I'll keep you posted"

The two ate for a few moments chatting about Chase's last few interesting surgeries. "I should probably go," Chase said, "but I'm so glad I saw you…or glad you interrupted my class for a damn whiteboard."

"Good to see you, it's like seeing my little boy all growed-up"

"Give me your phone. I'll add my number"

"I work at a bar on the weekends. My friend owns it, you could stop by"

"I will. Karaoke?"

"Not usually but there's sometimes an open mic sort of thing."

"If you decide to start a team up, anywhere, at least…give me the opportunity. I've proven myself once or twice."

"Yea. You get a few points for being one of the few people here at the hospital that didn't look appalled to see me…so…"

Chase smiled genuinely, "I'll talk to you soon"

House returned his gaze to Cuddy, who was separating from the group of people, exchanging final hugs and handshakes with former colleagues and employees, carefully extricating herself from the small cluster and working her way back over to him, sliding back into the seat next to him to finish her food.

She looked around the room, realizing that this place, like virtually every corner of the building, had some sort of emotion or memory attached to it. The cafeteria, like the rest of the hospital, had some minor decoration changes, but was completely recognizable and a sense of melancholy familiarity was palpable. After a sip of water she said, looking at him with sincerity, "I have known you more within this building than all of the other places we have associated in combined."

"Sort of depressing. Guess we'll have to find new places to know each other," he said suggestively.

"Sounds good," she flirted. "We've never spent as much consecutive time together as we have the past few weeks, which is even stranger…In over twenty years we have never really spent a few weeks together outside of work."

"Is that good or bad?"

"It's…good…for me…"

"Me too," he said evenly. "So, why do you have the worrying face?"

"Is it too much?"

"You think I wouldn't tell you if it was?"

"I think you're trying to be somewhat gentle with me."

"Yes, my way of being gentle involves calling people control freaks and pissing them off until the smash things…"

"It sorta is... Anyway, I'm not ready for this yet. We're…moving up to the next phase…each step along the way, we've been willing to reevaluate. You invited me to stay the first night I came to find you, then we agreed to the beach, then to visit each of our homes, this…unexpected stop in Princeton. Soon it will be…long distance relationship?"

"I guess. More like medium-distance relationship. We're good though, we're…both here voluntarily aren't we?"

"I'm going to miss you. It's…not a feeling I'm fond of…makes me feel…dependent."

"Wasn't that long ago you didn't count on me for anything, so I'm fine with it. You aren't dependent. This, just feels good. It's OK to want something that feels good."

She stood up from the table as he followed, dumping their disposable dishware in the trashcan and leaving the tray in the appropriate spot.

"No matter why, I still feel weird admitting that I don't feel like being apart from you. Maybe I need to find some girl friends to tell this stuff to so I don't make an ass out of myself or frighten you away."

"I have seen far scarier things from you," he chuckled. "Besides, I prefer you having to dish to me. But, if it would help, I could do my sorority sister impression and say 'girrrrrrrrrl' and 'whatever' at appropriate times…we could have pillow fights"

"Yes...that is what all adult women do when they get together," she laughed. "I don't want to return to the clinic or my empty house alone. I…don't know what to do about that right now."

"Ready to run away?" he asked, as they walked out toward the elevators so they could return to Wilson's office to wait for him.

She smiled and nodded as was their custom.

"So…where are we going to go this time?"

"Saskatchewan?"

"Yea…that works," he answered. "Hopefully they won't find us there for a while."

When she punched the button in the elevator she chuckled, "How many damn times did I get in this elevator to go find you?"

"A lot of times"

"How many of those times was I…completely fuming? I mean, how often was I _so_ mad that I just…could have killed you!"

"Probably almost as many as I was in this same elevator trying to find somewhere to hide…or…hatching a plot for retaliation…some beautiful way to get your attention, to…irritate the hell out of you. Sure sometimes you were irritated because I was doing my job…in the ways I did my job. Other times, you were reacting to whatever I plotted out for you."

"So some of the times had more to do with _trying_ to irritate me than incidentally irritating me while you did what you thought was right?"

"Definitely. Those were the fun times"

"Not a good way to avoid me…irritating me into hunting you down…"

"Well, there was a dualistic force at work there. Isn't that sort of typical of us…wanting each other near…but not too near…always…yet…never. We're idiots. At least when it comes to each other...or relationships in general."

She smiled as she pushed through the office door and held it for him. He sat down behind the desk and started to look over the items spread out over the surface. He said with a tone of amusement, "The world is better off for us having never procreated. Could you imagine the social-emotional ineptitude of such a person, assuming such things are at least partially genetic?"

He quickly studied her face, hoping he hadn't hit on a spot still too sore for jibes. He was relieved when he saw her smile, "Probably decent looking…" she countered.

"Decent? Definitely one of the best looking human beings to ever walk the planet…I don't see how that is disputable."

"Fine…incredibly good looking…just enough to draw in suitors, and then destroy them"

"Genius Cuddy! You came up with the clue that prompted my second brilliant idea of the day! Our ticket out of our boring ass jobs…we'll write a series of novels for tweens about our gorgeous yet soul devouring offspring."

"Aww just like daddy…" she said, walking behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"No fondling!" he yelled loudly to be certain those in the hall would hear him, "I promised Wilson."

They both noticed the somewhat steady parade of people casually walking past House's old office to see with their own eyes the two most infamous personalities PPTH had ever known. Most of the onlookers slowed down like rubberneckers at the scene of a grisly car accident along the highway and then quickly looked away when they met the gaze of either House or Cuddy.

"This…is called hugging. You can tell you have had very little human contact, or, perhaps due to your advancing age, you expectations for things sexual has faded. Fondling, should be a little bit more fun than this…not that this isn't nice."

"Can you imagine the incredible fun we could have had attempting to conceive though…makes it seem strangely worth unleashing this demon child on the world doesn't it?"

She chuckled as she let go of him to check out the things Wilson still had on the shelves in the office. House opened the drawers and began snooping.

"Too bad you didn't have the courage to ask me to be your baby daddy years earlier. Maybe we could have saved all of this trouble and drama between us"

"I doubt that. I wouldn't have actually slept with you."

"I have a theory about that…I think you would have caved to my charms. All amped up on hormones, and me being almost completely irresistible, you'd pop by my apartment one night begging."

"Right…"

She stopped when she heard House say a pleased, "Ah-ha!" as he found something at the back of one of the drawers.

A small box contained a few things that House had left behind. There were a few small notes for things he had been working on, that Wilson saved, clearly imagining that his obsessively thinking friend would one day return to find an item that he needed to complete a thought that would lead to a perfect conclusion.

There were a few items that used to sit on top of House's desk, and beneath the scraps of paper, a photograph. He smirked at the photo before stuffing it into his pocket while Cuddy's attention was still on the items lined on the shelves.

She was soon chatting with a few of the nurses in the hall, so House decided to call Kate, somewhat suspicious that he hadn't heard from her in a few days.

"You excited? I'm coming home tomorrow!" he said as she answered.

"Hey…you happier now that your pickle's being regularly tickled?"

"How many young women with terribly low self-esteem are currently competing with me for your attention?" House asked.

"None, why what's wrong? Lemme guess, you feel good, so you're second guessing yourself…again"

"No oh great Psychic Dyke, I'm currently not second guessing my decisions, but I didn't hear from you for ten minutes, so I wanted to know how you are doing. Why no female company?"

"Needed a break"

"Ohhh-Kay. You talked to Lucy didn't you?"

"Yea. Not all stories have the traditional happy ending"

"What did she say…what did you say?"

"It's not important. Sometimes drinking and heartache go poorly together, particularly when the subject of that heartache is doing the pouring"

"So…"

"We're friends. We're good. Let's leave it at that. Except, I'm taking your lovely woman to the wedding with me"

"OK," House answered calmly.

"OK?"

"Yea. OK. I mean, traditionally you'd have to ask her, but since she's dangerously close to being my actual property, I'll answer for her."

"Wait…are you…getting married? You didn't run off and get married…did you?"

"Yea, that sounds exactly like me"

"Ok. Just checking, because if you ever get married, and you don't invite me, I'll…"

"I think it's safe to say that you'll get married before I will"

"Anyway, I'm bringing both of you as my dates"

"Can't you just take my woman, so I don't have to sit through all of that nauseating bullshit?"

"I want you to go. It will be fun if someone else there is sickened by the proceedings a little, even if it is for very different reasons than mine."

"I…shouldn't have encouraged you to talk to her"

"No, I'm good, honestly. I'm good. I'm happy, I'm a complete slut at heart. This is the life I want"

"OK," he said with sincerity.

"I can move forward entirely without regret. I talked to her without making some overly romantic overture or destroying my pride."

"So what's the current plan, you have a new girl on the line now?"

"My plan is, take you and Lisa to the wedding, get you super drunk, so that you pass out, get her just drunk enough to lower her defenses and have my wicked way with her…pretty much the same plan I've had since I met her, so I don't know why we're calling it the new plan. You've been annoyingly absent so, it's been hard to see it through," she teased.

"Bitch"

"Jackass"

"Well, this has been fun"

"I'll see you tomorrow, seriously this place needs you back"

He hung up just as Wilson returned to the office.

"You just can't help but meddle can you?" House asked Wilson from his seated position in Wilson's chair, legs crossed at the feet on the desk.

"What? What are you talking about? I certainly didn't orchestrate the case to…"

"No," House interrupted, "not the case…I found the picture"

"What picture?" Wilson asked, trying, but failing to look both innocent and confused.

"You know what picture," House said, as he stood and pulled the photo in question from his pocket. It was the very same image that Rachel had of House. "You gave this to the kid…made Cuddy crazy. Why?"

Wilson walked over to the shelves, opening a false book and pulling out some cigars as he gestured toward the balcony. "Don't tell Cuddy," Wilson said after they lit their cigars.

"OK," House conceded.

"She talked about you a lot. It…upset Cuddy. Rachel started saying she missed you. I told her that I would get her a picture, if she would stop talking about it to her mother...and occasionally I'd tell her secret made up messages from you. It made her feel better."

"Weird"

"Which part"

"Still never really thought she liked me all that much. I guess I figured she was jealous of me…you know, vying for mommy's time."

"Rachel loved you. Your leaving…the whole breakup, bothered her more than you'd ever think. More than Cuddy thought too. So, I borrowed Cuddy's camera, got the picture off of it and printed it out."

"Rachel wasn't the only one who missed me," he said, nodding at Wilson.

"Fine, I missed you. Not at first. I was mad at you, and then sad, but…in the end, I spent years looking out for you, and I guess, in your own convoluted way, you looked out for me too. It was lonely after you left. And boring. Very boring"

House smiled as they finished their cigars and they left for Wilson's place.

When they got to Wilson's car, House balanced his tennis ball one of the cup holders and shoved his whiteboard between the seats from front to back. Wilson looked on, arms folded. "The tennis ball is yours, that's fine, but...the whiteboard technically belongs to the hospital. What else do you have shoved in your pockets? Anything that's mine?"

He looked at Cuddy with an expectant look, as if she could do something to stop it, "House," she said, "you're fired"

He smiled at Wilson, "There, Cuddy took care of it. Feel better?"


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N**-_Thanks to all of the readers and reviewers since last time: IHeartHouseCuddy, TheHouseWitch, JessicaClackum, lenasti16, RedTulipAna, yahnis, newdayz, ClareBear14, LiaHuddy, Josam, berenice, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, JamHuddyFan, dmarchl...I thoroughly appreciate the time you take to leave me your thoughts.  
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_So glad the hospital stuff was fun, it was really fun to imagine. I like pulling in different people. As to comments on the Chase conversation…I was inspired by some of House's openness with Chase, however briefly, in Season 8, left me feeling that they had more of a rapport than what was led on before...Just my interpretation. OOC? Probably. Here's the next segment! Enjoy!  
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_I probably won't be able to update tomorrow. I will likely be updating more like 3-4 times per week for a while. Work/Life...you know how that is.  
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**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter contains relatively mild adult content, it is marked off between the "*" signs for those who want to skip.  
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><p>House was notoriously antsy after they arrived at Wilson's place. He paced around the living room, ignoring offers of food and drink, and scarcely answering conversation that was directed at him. He was playing with knickknacks on the mantlepiece when he turned to Wilson and said, "Thanks for the hospitality and the patient, it was fun! We have to go now."<p>

A very surprised Cuddy, who was discussing the case they solved at the hospital with Ann when House made his announcement, followed him back to the guest room to gather their few belongings. "We're leaving?" she asked, somewhat confused, "Your leg bothering you?"

"Nope, wanna do some things before I have to go back to work"

"OK..." Cuddy responded.

House was distracted, very distracted. Cuddy was flooded with concern, completely unable to tell what event prompted a complete change in attitude during the short drive from the hospital to Wilson's home. He grabbed his bag and said quietly, "Everything's fine. Trust me. I'm just ready to go do something that I've been waiting for the right moment to do… The moment struck, I feel ready now, and I want you to come with me, OK?"

"Sure," she said, trying to smile.

She would never shake the feeling of anxiety that she felt when House seemed unpredictable or unreadable. Wilson tried to ask House if all was OK, finding his question quickly deflected, but after bidding their sudden and unexpected goodbyes to Wilson and Ann, they walked out to the car. House held his hand out for the keys and then took the driver's seat.

"Where are we going?" Cuddy asked.

"For a ride"

The route was unmistakable from the beginning. The stop light. The long curve to the right at the "Y" in the road. Cuddy knew where they were going, and in spite of a will to intercede, to ask for the purpose of the trip, she decided to allow things to unfold. After a quick stop at a convenience store, the very same one he had always frequented when he lived there, to pick up a few drinks and some snacks, they continued on their journey.

House was fully aware that beneath her calm exterior, she was very nervous. Her hands, hidden under the elbows at her crossed arms, were clenched into tight fists, and her jaw was working with tension. After only a few minutes they pulled up in front of his one-time apartment. He stared up at the darkened window.

"Guess no one's home," Cuddy commented.

"Obviously. Looks like we'll have to break in!"

"NO! House, this is a bad idea, I'm all for a trip down memory lane, but I'm not going to go breaking and entering with you! Such a gigantic mistake, you have a record!"

"Eh, not worried about that. If someone calls the cops, you can take the rap for me," he said smiling, his eyes alive with excitement.

"Please, let's think about this _before_ we make a big mistake," she said, pleading as he got out of the car, bags from the convenience store in hand, and started walking toward the stairs up to the entryway.

He came back to the car when he realized she didn't follow, opened her door for her and said, "Come on…"

She put her hand on her forehead with worry, "Really...you really need to do this, right here…now?"

"Yup. Don't let me down, remember you're a new and improved, less controlling Cuddy"

"Less controlling sure…more criminal…I don't think so"

He held out his hand insistently to help pull her from the car.

"This is such a horrible idea," she muttered, as she got out of the car.

They walked up the stairs and through the exterior door, to the inside door that led to his old apartment. He traced the "B" on the door for a moment, then stared at her as he reached his hand up above the door frame for the key he expected and strangely found. Her heart was pounding in her chest. "Let's just knock first."

He knocked three times and waited a few moments before grinning, unlocking the door and walking in, "No place like home."

Cuddy barely stepped in, eyes closed, hoping the new occupants weren't sleeping in the bedroom mere feet away. She could see the lights turn on through her closed eyelids and slowly allowed them to open. "You have to be kidding!" she said as she saw the tidy, almost completely uncluttered version of House's apartment. His furniture was still there. His sofa, his piano, his desk, even a now aging computer, were all neatly left exactly where they had been when she was there years earlier. The place was completely spotless, the smell of window cleaner and disinfectant hanging heavily in the air.

"Guess the cleaning lady's been keep up her end," he said, as he ran his hand over the top of his piano before walking out to the kitchen. He turned on the refrigerator and put the drinks in that he had just bought.

He smiled at her as he returned to the room. "You actually kept this place all of this time?" she inquired.

"Yup. I have an accountant that takes care of these things. I live at Kate's, it's not like I have a lot of other bills."

"I can't believe this, this is…insanity"

"My cleaning lady stops by once a month, make sure nothing's leaking or burning, tidies up the place"

"When's the last time you were here"

"Let me think, so hard to remember," he said sarcastically, "the day after I got out of jail…I came here, got a few things, called the cleaning lady…"

"I can't believe you kept this…just…sitting here empty waiting for you"

"I feel weird saying this again, but apparently I need to…I'm Greg House, we have met, right?"

"It's an entire apartment!"

"Wasn't it you who said pianos are a pain to move? It's so true. Then you have to get them tuned up again, it's a huge ordeal. Simpler to pay up the bills a few years at a time," he said, as he slipped behind the piano and started to play, an expression of complete bliss on his face.

She walked around the living room, recalling some of their times there. Of all of the places where they had memories stored, this was one of very few where most of her memories were pretty good. Their times together here were mostly early on in the relationship, filled with chats, sex and declarations of feelings. Of course the memory of their ultimate breakup was here too, but overall, she felt surrounded by many pleasant thoughts of them together.

Recalling momentarily the circumstances of the break up, she felt a sense of overwhelming guilt. She stood near the doorway watching him play, so happy and worry free. At that very moment, the thought of hurting him, of causing any pain in the man who had been so completely available and supportive, and had been everything she had needed…hurt her beyond belief.

He kept playing, but shifted his gaze to her, intense and full of passion. She could see in his eyes a look of not only caring, but of real love. She knew he had deep and meaningful feelings for her before, he had probably felt that way for a long time before they had dated, but his look now was unreserved, unencumbered love. It was something she had never seen from him so unapologetically before.

They very seldom spoke in words like those, but with gazes like the one he was giving her, words were completely unnecessary.

For House alone, this place was complicated, with years' worth of pain, hopes and moments of overwhelming despair. It was his safe haven and his cage, and with that came things wonderful and horrible, but so much of him was written into these walls. The music softened as he knew she was about to speak, and his face told her he was waiting for her question. "Why?" she asked.

"I'm not great at letting go sometimes," he responded calmly, still playing, "Look at you, you're old and decrepit now and I still keep you."

She scowled as he shot a playful grin at her. He whispered to the piano, "I have to go now, before she gets jealous."

He walked over and wrapped her in a warm hug, "I'm gonna get a shower. You get cozy, I figured we'd stay here tonight, and I'll go into work tomorrow, you can hang out back at Kate's place until I'm done with work."

"Here? All night?" she asked.

"You're right, that would be weird…Should we get up and sneak out at three am to avoid an awkward morning after?" he teased.

"No…I …think I'm just taken off guard."

"We can leave if you aren't comfortable," he offered.

"No…it's fine, just not where I thought I'd end up tonight. Go get your shower."

House took his shower as Cuddy walked through the apartment somewhat gingerly, almost as if she were afraid of disturbing something. His bed was neatly made and bedroom was as spotlessly clean as the rest of the apartment. This room was also largely free of clutter, with a few personal items only, but all of the same furniture. She felt almost as if she'd been able to step back through time and was given a second chance.

She showered after him, angry with the small part of her that thought that he may be looking for a secret stash of Vicodin while he was alone in the next room. She cast aside those thoughts, choosing willfully to trust him rather than allow her suspicions to alter her behavior.

There were limited supplies and she had to use bar soap and very basic shampoo that clearly he had chosen at one point, grateful to be able to shower despite how basic the provisions were. She had a suitcase in her car, but when they arrived she was so concerned that he was breaking into someone else's home, she didn't bother to bring in her belongings. Once she was inside, she didn't want to walk back out, worried that leaving the apartment would break the spell that was giving her this opportunity to wipe away their final mutual memory here from years ago.

When she was almost done, the shower curtain whipped back and the water was turned off. "Done waiting!" House announced loudly, standing there in a pair of boxers and unceremoniously picking her up and lifting her over her shoulder as she shrieked. "God woman, stop wiggling. Cripple here, don't make this more difficult than it has to be!

"*"

He braced his arm on the door frame to push them forward toward the bed and dropped her down onto it. "I'm soaked!"

"Really? That's odd given that you were in the shower!" He grabbed his discarded towel from the floor and put it under her head to catch most of the moisture from her hair as he started to lick the water off her neck and slide down toward her nipple. She stopped protesting, easily caught in the moment, tilting her head back to enjoy the sensations she was expecting until he playfully bit her nipple.

"Ouch, you ass," she screamed, laughing at the same time as she flipped him over and twisted both of his nipples in retaliation, causing him to yelp and chuckle in response.

"We…had some fun times in this apartment," he said, as he ran his hands along her sides.

"Trust me, I remember," she answered, leaning down to kiss him "You…were really amazing today, I love watching you think…watching the…moment the answer comes to you."

"You were actually fun today…Dean Cuddy's not nearly as fun as helpful sexy coworker Cuddy"

"Dean Cuddy had a target on her back and had to consistently spend her time worrying that you were going to destroy something…or someone," she said, as her words slipped into a low appreciative moan when his fingers began to stroke her.

"If only it was always that easy to silence Dean Cuddy," he chuckled back, as he flipped them over again.

"There was nothing that ever silenced you…Employee you or Coworker you…always still talking" she said, as he groaned at the first touches of her hand bringing him to full arousal.

Her free hand ran up his back, tickling his spine while he shivered into her, the sensation of water that had dripped from her onto him and left chilly spots in its wake, a stark contrast to the warmth of her body.

"You are so easy to work up," he teased at her eager response to his touches.

"I told you, watching you think, watching you be the brilliant man that I know you are, has always been incredibly sexy to me."

"Like a day's worth of foreplay. I'll have to locate the dying more frequently."

"Definitely," she answered, placing kisses along his jaw line as he pushed slowly into her, pulling her legs up high along his waist.

"I like this," he whispered against her ear as she groaned.

"Sex?" she asked absently, her brain slowly disconnecting.

He breathed a small chuckle, "Well yea, but…I meant…" he inhaled slowly, trying to remember that he desperately wanted to take his time. He wanted to express a deeper connection than a quick sweaty fuck, "I meant," he confessed, "this you and me thing…it's…good."

Cuddy exhaled in agreement and arousal as she ran her hands up his sides, always loving the feeling of his body rippling and ribs moving with uncontrolled breath. "more than good," she moaned.

"I'm going to try so hard not to mess this up."

"Me too," she said, grabbing his face to look him in the eye and finding the sincerity and love there too much to ignore. They breathed against each other in words that didn't quite materialize, but the meanings were conveyed anyway.

He felt the softness of her skin, still damp in some places from the shower. She smelled like his soap, but somehow the scent was different on her, mixing with the sweet smells of her natural skin, the pheromones that likely helped to attract him to her, along with his overwhelming attraction for both her mind and body.

Later, they climaxed almost simultaneously, some of his weight collapsing on her, but as he tried to move away she pulled him fully down on her, feeling just how cold her still slightly damp skin was and hiding beneath him.

"*"

"I'm so sorry I hurt you…"

"What? I'm...fine," he mumbled, almost falling asleep, "You didn't…hurt me at all..."

"No, I mean before"

"Let it go. You're here now," he whispered against her skin. His eyes blinked open, "I am going to crush you though, if I stay in this spot," he said as he rolled off and onto the dry side of the bed. "You stay over there on the wet side, that's what you get for coming to bed like that," he chuckled before pulling her over next to him on the dry side.

"Why haven't you stopped here before now?"

"Didn't want to risk it"

"Why risk it now?"

"Seemed right coming back here with you…I dunno, didn't seem like much of a risk anymore," he answered as he heard her breathing turn into a faint snore. He fell asleep shortly after her.

He woke at five in the morning and crept out to his piano to play for a few minutes before it was time to go to work. At seven he snarled at the thought of going back into his office in the basement in a few hours, to research things he truly didn't care about, and limped into his bedroom to wake Cuddy.


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N-** _I know there's lots of things people want to see…some will happen, some won't, but, I don't want to give away anything…so that's all I'm gonna say for now :) There's more on the horizon, they've only had a few weeks together in this story's time, but decades of history. _

_Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed: JLCH, lenasti16, Kirey, ClareBear14, IHeartHouseCuddy, grouchysnarky (nice to hear from you, I'm glad you're reading!), berenice, Jane Q. Doe (I wore my bright green bandana for St Paddy's and reveled my little heart out), TheHouseWitch, Bakerstreet Blues, Josam, RedTulipAna, sin101, Abby, Alex (Thanks so much…although I have a feeling that in a few years, when I have to write about how House and Cuddy were looking for a new spot to have sex at the Old Age Home…you may beg me to stop haha!), HuddyGirl, limptulip, bonneiyy77, BETEDELSTEIN, dmarchl _

_thanks for your time and words everyone!  
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**Disclaimer_-_**_I don't own the characters of House, MD_**_  
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><p>When he went back to wake her, he found Cuddy sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out of the window, already fully alert and dressed.<p>

"Been awake long?" House asked as he sat down next to her, leaning back, his weight braced on his hands behind him.

"Not really," she said softly. "You keeping this place?"

"For now…yes. Down the line…I don't know…probably. Are you OK?"

"Yea…here we go," she said, in a sing-songy voice, forcing a smile, anxious about the degree of reality that was about to set in for them.

"Here we go," he responded, trying to look more collected than he was.

"I got a call this morning, from one of the doctors who is filling in for me. It's not going well at the clinic."

He nodded his head in acknowledgement and squinted, "Which means?"

"I'm going back to work. I'm not going to use the rest of my leave. It's time to just...do this"

House sighed, "OK. I thought you were hanging out with me for a few days."

"I know"

He looked down, feeling somewhat rejected and uncertain.

"We're postponing the inevitable at this point. It's time. We can't hide from this forever," she said softly. "I'm worrying about what may happen, or what we're going to do...and I can't stop thinking about it."

"OK," he answered, not sounding any more certain. This leap ahead was far more drastic than he had hoped to deal with at the moment, but he had to agree with her assessment: They couldn't hide forever.

His apartment was soon returned to the state it was in when they arrived. He picked up the key from the desk, and looked over the place from a spot by the door. When they stepped out into the hallway he locked the door and returned the key to its hiding spot.

After packing the car, yet again, they were driving. In a short while, he would be back at work and she would be back in her clinic. Things would be back to the way they were a month ago. At least partially.

She'd no longer be completely disconnected from herself, they were still a couple, these things were vast improvements.

"Wish we were back at the old hospital?" she asked.

"Eh. Not sure. This weekend. We're going to meet up?"

"I'm counting on it," she responded.

"My place or yours?"

"Yours. When I get done on Friday, I'll head over. Or…" she said with a smirk, "we could say…forget it all, run away."

He smiled at the fact that she was entertaining the fantasy of ignoring reality.

"So you pick," she said, "where are we going so I know what to pack?"

"Tahiti," he answered, "Pack nothing. I can take up painting, you can model for me…sleep in hammocks on black sand beaches feeling the breeze off of the ocean."

"Nice choice," she commented, resting her head back against her seat lost in thought.

She began to see signs along the highway, signaling that it wouldn't be long before they arrived at Penn Hospital. "So about hammocks…" she said.

"Yes…"

"What would you think about planning a trip back to the Outer Banks? We could stay down at Ann and Wilson's? Maybe in a few weeks…celebrate our success at a medium-distance relationship."

"Yea, that sounds great," he answered, wondering if they'd still be celebrating after a few weeks.

"Good, now we have something to look forward to when the next few days are miserable."

He pulled the car off onto a side street shortly before the arrived at the hospital and put it in park. Moving quickly, he had both of their seat belts unlocked and pulled her over toward him in a seething kiss. His hand on her hip pulling her toward him, got the same physical reaction from her that it always did. That simple touch, his hand surrounding her hip, one thumb across the front-outer ridge of the bone, fingers the whole way around her to the back, brought forth imagery and feelings from some of the hundreds of times they had sex over the years. It was all part of the possession he took of her that made her feel like she didn't have to be in control for a few minutes. Somehow, she knew he could take care of everything, she could completely trust him. So strange that she always trusted him more in physical intimacy than she ever did with her feelings…until their most recent meeting.

As always, he had a way of making her forget where she was, or anything else that was pertinent, except her need for him. She moaned needfully and he felt himself being drawn too far into his own need for her. He slowed his kiss to smaller touches along her lips. "Let's go somewhere. I want you, now," she said between kisses.

"Good," he smiled as he pushed her gently back into her seat and drew the seatbelt across her body to latch it before securing his own.

He began to drive calmly to the hospital, "Where are we going?" she asked, delicately stroking his arm.

"I have to go to work, you know how it would destroy me to be late."

"Kinda risky having sex in your office at this time of day, isn't it."

"Definitely"

She smiled at his daring until he said, "That…is why we aren't going to have sex in my office"

"Hunh?"

"Want to finish what we started?" he asked.

"Obviously," she replied emphatically.

"Great, consider it my insurance policy…or maybe a down payment. Your ass better be here this weekend"

She smiled, "I'll be here."

"Time to make some money and discover the things that will save lives!" he said in sarcastically dramatic fashion as he pulled up in front of the hospital, "or at least discover things that are gonna make someone unbelievably wealthy."

She walked around to the driver's side. He got out of the car, grabbed his duffel and leaned down to pull her into a hug. "Talk to you tonight?"

"Definitely," she answered. "I'm _really_ going to miss you..."

He half smiled at her, "Me too. It'll be fine"

"I know," she answered, hesitant to let go of his forearms, which she clung to possessively.

"I gotta go. Good luck today," he said, as he broke free of her grasp and turned toward the building, looking up at the tall structure and feeling it looming unpleasantly over his head.

"You too," she said, before closing the door to the car. She watched him disappear into the building and said out loud, "it's only a couple of days…this is no big deal…just…relax."

The valet at the main door, positioned there to take cars for patients too sick to park their own, smiled at him when he walked in, and he sneered at her, as was their daily ritual.

"You back?" she asked, scowling.

"No, but I'll call you when I am"

"How are you doing you smartass? Just like that bratty son I raised!" she said.

The woman was strong, confident and completely unwilling to take the snide remarks and condescending behavior of the wealthier, snobbier patients who seemed to think that being courteous to her was beneath them. House was completely fond of her. She said what she meant, and never let herself feel like she was inferior to anyone.

He began talking to her casually enough when a very successful surgeon snubbed her friendly welcome one morning, learning later on that the surgeon was her son. Having been accustomed to being snubbed from friends and strangers alike, he felt a sense of unspoken camaraderie with the woman.

He walked away, ignoring her until she said, loudly enough to be heard by those around her, "Son, you get that grouchy white ass back here and answer your mama!"

The comment got the same looks it always got from those walking past who were always confused by how the tall, fair-skinned, sloppy white guy would have a tiny, black, prim and tidy mother.

House loved the looks and reactions that they received when she'd try to embarrass him like that. "Mama," he groaned like a whining child as he trudged over to her with a broad grin. "I'm fine, Celia, you?"

"I saw you out there with that woman. Just goes to show, there is _truly_ someone for _everyone_…even an ugly bastard like you," she smiled.

He smiled back, "Not bad, huh?"

"Not bad at all. She too good for you?"

"Of course"

"Good…you keep thinking that way, treat her like she's too good, and you won't mess it all up."

He smiled, "That…is remarkably good advice…from someone as aged and senile as yourself."

He started to walk down the hall and heard her call after him, "Gimme her number. I need to make sure she knows you're too good for her too"

House walked down the hallway, remembering the last time he was here, and she was with him. The strangest thing was, having her there, in a place she clearly didn't belong, felt completely natural. He thought that perhaps he should have felt like it was an invasion. That having her in his space compromised his privacy, but he knew he liked it.

He scowled as he got on the elevator, opening his wallet to get out his card to access the secure lower areas of the hospital. Silly romantic notions crossed his head, and he was at odds with whether he should find them sweet or nausea-inducing. He was having this discussion, more a battle within himself when he realized that next to him in the elevator stood two of his student assistants.

The students watched with interest the conflict within their grouchy and somewhat mysterious boss. His expressions changed, even his body language and affect, but the entire argument was wordless.

There were rumors about him here. Legends and myths really, about where he had come from and what he had done. There were rumors about what he did on the weekends, and the things that went on in his office.

At PPTH his actual behavior provided the fuel for some of the thoughts and beliefs about him. His actions there, encouraged most of the rumors, although his reputation was still aggrandized by the whispers and stories told by gawkers. At Penn, it was more his inaction and the lack of information about him that fueled some of the mythos.

Of course, his boss, Altland, supplied the initial set of information to the staff. The Dean didn't give Altland a choice when he chose to hire House in the research department. Altland knew of Cuddy and was well connected with upper and middle-management levels at hospitals along the east coast. Everyone knew that Cuddy was the person insane enough to hire House. Not only did she hire him, she kept him, she defended him, repeatedly, not only legally, but against the insults of others who felt he was more trouble than he was worth.

House disliked the way they lacked respect for her, seeing her association with him as a flaw, when in reality, it showcased her strength. He also realized that part of his affection for her had to do with the fact that she was willing to associate with him, was willing to accept derision and accusation on his behalf. Few people did that for him.

Of course when she invited his insanity into her personal life, the higher-ups' rumor mill went into overdrive.

When Altland was forced to take House onto his team, he was among the first to spread rumors, hoping that the uproar at the hospital about a convicted man, particularly one accused and convicted of an act of violence against a woman, would cause a groundswell of support which would preclude House from keeping the job. Strangely, most of the hospital didn't care.

When Altland approached one of the most ardent feminists in the hospital, a well-respected department head, she looked at him calmly, "Thanks for the info, I'll be sure not to date him," she said calmly, disliking Altland's rumor mongering before he even got into the meatier portions of his argument against House.

When Altland began to protest, she added, "Look, he's got to work somewhere. Here, he's away from patients, he's buried in the cellar. Besides, if he does anything suspicious, they'll fire him so fast his head'll spin."

That was the moment that Altland's dislike of House became hatred. The fact that people dismissed research as being somehow safer for the likes of House, that the work in the basement was less important than the work in the remainder of the building, angered him beyond words. House's arrival each day was living proof that Altland was less respected, his department, less important than the others.

The two students who rode the elevator with House scurried away as soon as the doors opened. He felt there was a certain freedom in having a reputation for being a complete jerk. It meant that he didn't have to work at establishing a reputation as such.

When he opened the door to his office, Altland was waiting inside. "Prodigal son returns," Altland said dryly, "Forty-five minutes late!"

"Does that mean you're not going to slaughter the fattened calf…what about a slightly pudgy chicken?"

"We're behind, I talked Lawoti into coming back"

"After the way she left? Completely without consulting me, you hired her back?"

"Actually, I'm hoping to groom her to be your replacement," Altland smirked.

"I'm fired? I don't think you can fire me for taking my vacation days."

"No, you aren't fired, yet. I'm figuring now that you're hanging around with your old boss again, it's only a matter of time before she comes to her senses and you go off the deep end."

House smiled disdainfully.

"Two new studies on your desk. Get moving on them. And you owe me forty-five minutes at the end of the day. Oh, one more thing, Lawoti's sharing your office from now on. Have a nice day."

House watched Altland leave. At least when Cuddy nagged him the view was better, he thought.

The next few hours weren't any better. Lawoti had a desk inside his office instead of in the small work room outside of it. She was smug, knowing that Altland was just looking for an excuse to fire him.

After solving one real case for Wilson, the research that had once kept him mildly entertained was now loathsomely boring.

He looked at his watch, realizing that a mere 12 hours earlier he was sleeping in his comfortable bed in the familiarity of his apartment, with _her_ resting calmly next to him. A couple of hours earlier than that, he was dragging a soggy Cuddy from the tub into his room. Just a short time before that he got to feel like a genius again.

A few weeks earlier he sat in that same desk, before she came back into his life, feeling content, but largely as if the best times were behind him. He went to work, did his job, no longer feeling that he excelled at much of anything, but he was staying out of trouble. He was dully comfortable, he too, on mute, much as Cuddy was, although not to the same degree. He had that taste of being alive again. The taste of a challenge, an intellectual puzzle, of sex that was truly exciting, of a woman who was complicated and difficult and actually had real feelings for him.

He got to be a lover and an asshole and a genius, all of the things he truly enjoyed being, able to tease and cajole and irritate…and now he was in the basement, staring at numbers and case studies, seated across from one of the people he respected least in the world.

At three, he decided to go down to the cafeteria and grab something to eat.

He was irritated. He was irritated with his job, and the fact that Lawoti was smirking at him from across the room all day. He was irritated because Cuddy didn't call. He was irritated that it bothered him that she didn't call. He was even more irritated when he thought about whether or not it was time for him to call her. The thing that irritated him most of all, was when he looked down at his phone and saw that she sent him a text message five hours previous that he didn't realize she sent.

'_Made it back to the clinic. Miss you_,' the message said.

He thought for a few moments while waiting for the world's slowest cashier to ring out his food. He finally responded. '_You miss me? Are you touching yourself_?'

He was surprised when her response came through quickly, _'Of course. It's not easy to keep up with the 8-10 hours of sexual gratification I require daily_.'

He smiled at the text, easily picturing the look of sarcasm on her face, and appreciating that she was still frisky. When she was like that she was always fun and he had assumed the frisky part of her would disappear the moment she was back to work. In his mind, he imagined this caricature of her, smiling happily, a glutton for punishment, at the return of stress and obligation behind the desk at her job.

He decided to ask the question that he was certain he knew the answer to. '_Glad to be back?_'

_'Not in the least_,' came her answer as he grinned happily, selfishly thrilled that she wasn't excited to return to her normal life.

'_You OK? You wouldn't believe my day_' another text came from her.

House wanted to go see her. He wanted to leave without a word or a clue of his intentions, leaving behind a sea of confused coworkers. Something about her, combined with his distaste for his present job, made him want to throw everything away. He couldn't help but feel hopeful, since for once, he wasn't running to avoid something, he was running to embrace it.


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N-**_Oodles of thanks to all who have read and those who have reviewed since the last time: lenasti16, CaptainK8, Phyna, grouchysnarky, HuddyGirl, Abby, Alex, berenice, Asia, ClareBear14, jc hutterdxtra, dmarchl, JamHuddyFan, IHeartHouseCuddy, Josam, JLCH_

_*this chapter steps back so you can see Cuddy's return to work too. I hope you enjoy.  
><em>

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD_

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><p>Cuddy regretted her decision to return to work from the very moment he went through the door at his hospital and disappeared from her sight. The two hour drive was lonely and far too quiet, in spite of the CD she blared to provide distraction from the noise in her head.<p>

Arriving back in Baltimore alone felt deeply uncomfortable. She stopped at her place, feeling a new sense of loss as quiet had settled over the place again. She smiled somberly toward the piano, already missing both the music and the musician.

She dressed quickly, remembering the way she felt the last time she was there, when he was still with her. They had argued, another disagreement with heated words that sometimes seemed the only way to get to the root of some of their bigger issues, the kinds of issues they didn't want to discuss when things were going well. They had fought, calmed the tension and then discussed, neither of them fleeing the scene, or saying anything irreparable, a true sign of growth in each of them from any of their previous incarnations together.

The clinic was bustling from the moment she walked in, as various people came to greet her, more out of a need for her resolve an issue or sign a paper than to welcome her back. "Dr. Cuddy, we really need to resolve this Snyder issue," the doctor who was filling in for her in her absence said as she followed her into her office.

"What did he do now?"

"He blatantly ignored a well-documented allergy, and recommended pseudoephedrine _and_ ibuprofen for a patient with uncontrolled high blood pressure, who ended up…"

"Stop," Cuddy said, holding her hands in front of her. "Is he here?"

"Unfortunately"

"Send him in"

Cuddy fired Snyder as gently as possible, although every fiber in her being wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of him. His mistakes were numerous and well-documented. She had plenty of proof as to why he should be fired if she were ever asked to defend her decision.

She had been at work less than an hour, and already had to fire someone. She breathed a sigh of relief when he left and brought up a file of resumes to start looking for a replacement. She stopped for a moment to text House and placed her phone face up so she could await a response.

After ten minutes she was surprised that she didn't hear anything. She looked two more times, disappointed that he didn't respond, and realized that only seven more minutes had elapsed. She stuffed her phone into her desk drawer, promising she wouldn't look for at least another half an hour.

Nearly an hour later he still didn't respond, and then she was just frustrated with herself for expecting that he sit waiting by the phone for her to communicate with him.

She was frustrated with Snyder. She was frustrated with the job at the clinic, despite the fact that she was very successful there, because it wasn't interesting enough to keep her engaged and certainly didn't make her happy. She was frustrated that she allowed herself to remain at a job that was so unfulfilling for so long. Most of all, she was frustrated with herself for not remaining those last few days with House even though he had to work.

Cuddy's assistant came into her office to discuss several items of interest: meetings, phone calls, important events, and then, very strangely, broke out of her typically professional demeanor to say, "If I may say, Dr. Cuddy, way to play the field!"

Cuddy shook her head in confusion and looked up, "What do you mean?"

The assistant looked flustered, immediately adopting her stiff posture and professionalism again, "I'm sorry, that was out of line, there is a gentleman waiting in room four for you. I think you may want to see him."

Cuddy felt a surge of excitement, pleased that House had chosen to surprise her here and curious as to why he wasn't at work. After only a few hours, she was ridiculously happy to see him, so much so that she wasn't sure if she could hide it.

"I'll be taking lunch then," Cuddy said to the assistant as she walked out from her office.

"I thought so, Doctor. Enjoy your break."

Cuddy moved quickly to the exam room, now understanding why House didn't answer her text, since he must have been driving, or just wanted to make the surprise all the more poignant. She tapped twice on the door and opened it, trying to suppress a grin, as she peaked around the corner and the smile dropped from her face.

"Expecting someone else?" he asked.

"Umm…yea…how are you Matthew?"

Cuddy tried to force her smile, crossing her arms gracefully in front of her, realizing now what her assistant had meant by 'playing the field', since she had last seen her with House and was now assuming she was seeing her ex-boyfriend Matthew as well. He was as always, calm and proper looking. He was the type of man that could easily be pictured in a plaid smoking jacket with a pipe, although she'd never seen him with either.

"A little birdie told me you are seeing someone…I was a bit disappointed that it wasn't me…" he smiled sweetly.

"Matthew…I told you…"

"I know," he interrupted, "you told me. I was hoping that perhaps you were finally feeling better, that maybe you were ready to give us another chance. Or perhaps I'm not incapacitated enough for you?" he asked, waiting for a reaction.

Her eyes flared as she moved one hand to her face, trying to decide just how much information to give.

"I remember hearing your ex walked with a cane, your sister warned me to be wary of anyone meeting his description, and gave me some background, because he's known for immaturity and game playing. Now another one? Or perhaps, it's the same man?" he said, the underlying sense of hurt showing through.

"It doesn't really matter does it? I ended things with you a long time ago. I…don't owe you any explanation."

"He's the reason why you never really gave me a chance. I always got the impression that everything that happened with your ex made you hesitant to date _anyone_. Apparently I was wrong, he made you hesitant to date anyone _but him_. I'm surprised at you Lisa."

Her eyes narrowed somewhat as she waited for his next move. "I...don't remember asking for your opinion," she said calmly. "Don't try to guilt me, or pressure me into questioning my decisions. Thank you for your _concern_, but I'm fine," she said as she went for the door.

"Don't overreact. I'd like us to remain friends. I still think that we have the opportunity to find real happiness together."

"I don't expect to see you here again," she said, quickly walking out of the room and over to her assistant, tapping her desk and saying, with great frustration, "My office. Now."

"OK," Cuddy sighed once they were both inside, "I don't want to be ambushed again. Anyone wants to see me...I want a name, and I'm definitely not having any more private meetings with _him_."

Cuddy's assistant left for a moment and she pulled her phone out, finding a message. Initially excited to see a message, she felt the pang of disappointment yet again when she saw the text was from her sister, Julia, asking how she was doing and if she had returned from her vacation at the beach.

"Great…" Cuddy said aloud, "could today get _any_ better?"

Talking to her sister was something she seldom enjoyed since Rachel died. It wasn't because Julia did anything intentionally that bothered Cuddy, it was the sympathy in her eyes that was too much to take, coupled with the repeated suggestions that she spend more time with Julia's children. Everyone's attempts to help and be kind were the entire reason she went to see House. Now, on top of everything else, she was angry that Julia had taken it upon herself to discuss House with Matthew.

Before Cuddy left for the beach she didn't speak to anyone, and now that she was back, she still wasn't ready to delve into anything beyond pleasantries and medicine with people other than him.

She finally received his response, one so typically House, and they teased and flirted via text until he asked her: '_Glad to be back_?'

Just as she read his response, her assistant came back through the door. "Dr. Cuddy , there's a lawyer here to see you."

"I should have expected as much," she said, forcing a smile.

She quickly responded to House: '_Not really_,' before telling her assistant to show the lawyer into the office.

* * *

><p>He worked late that night, a true rarity in his position in research. He had two days to get caught up, and wasn't about to be too busy on Friday night when Cuddy came back. Cuddy called while he was sitting at his desk.<p>

She had every intention of asking him to meet her at a mid-way point. Even if for an hour, she wanted to see him.

He wanted to suggest that they meet up somewhere. Actually he wanted to quit his job on the spot, go get her and go somewhere else altogether. He realized that when trying to demonstrate to her that he wasn't the impulsive man she had once known, it was probably a bad idea to throw caution to the wind and quit work. He was pretty certain Cuddy would see such a move as more quixotically reckless than sweet and an argument was the last thing he had in mind for their next meeting.

"Bad day?" he asked her.

"Just crazy, you?"

"Umm… it's…long. I'm gonna work late, try to get this all done, so when you get here Friday night, I'm unencumbered…or at least I'm available to be encumbered by you."

"Sounds good," she said, deducing from his statement that he was too busy to meet up with her. "I don't want to keep you if you have a lot to do."

As much as she wanted to see him, she didn't want to appear to be overly needy, so she said nothing about meeting up. As much as he wanted to see her, he sensed her hesitance and was concerned she needed some time to herself, so he said nothing. They both wondered if the other one was rethinking this most recent attempt at a relationship.

"OK…" he responded.

"Well, I'll let you go then. We can talk tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yea. Night, Cuddy"

"Night, House"

* * *

><p>He woke Friday morning, wishing his bed wasn't so empty and cold, the ache in his thigh intense and distracting. He let the hot water of the shower slam on it for a while but it didn't help much. He went to work, his overall mood sour, his day disappointing. Now that they weren't together, he constantly questioned whether everything was returning to the way it was before and if everything they had tried to accomplish together would be forgotten. They spoke briefly that morning, a short, perfunctory discussion, which didn't soothe either of their growing fears that things were going to go wrong.<p>

The only possible upside was that, in his misery, he completed much, but not all of his work, and it was Friday afternoon, finally. As his work day was nearing its end, he picked up his phone to call Cuddy.

They exchanged stunted, uncomfortable greetings. They spoke for a few moments, House instantly second-guessing her feelings toward him, looking down at his own work and imagining that she'd probably rather be working than not. "I don't know if I'm going to be done in time. If you have something else you want to do this weekend, you should go ahead."

"All of those times I hoped you'd take work seriously and you didn't and now that I wish you wouldn't take it seriously, you are?" Cuddy asked.

He chuckled a bit, waiting to see if she was interested in taking advantage of the escape he provided her with.

"That's too bad," she responded, her voice in stereo from both his phone and the door to his office.

He couldn't hide the smile that crossed his face the moment he saw her. She looked relieved at his reaction, walked over to where he was seated in his chair behind his desk and immediately pulled him into a warm kiss.

His surprise at her arrival was surpassed only by his happy return of affection, the contact deep but unhurried. He stood up from his chair so he could pull her entire body tightly against him, missing her and the feeling of her more than he'd ever want to admit.

"House," she said, placing her hands on his chest to pull away enough to look at him clearly, "why do we always do this?"

"I don't know," he said, with feigned thoughtfulness. "Perhaps we should keep doing this and see if we can figure it out, it's like research and we're in the research department. I have petri dishes next door if you're into that," he smiled as he brought her back toward him, lifting her slightly upward in the embrace.

She allowed his deflection for a moment, enjoying their closeness, and then pulled back again, "Not this…although…I wouldn't mind further research into this topic. Seriously, two days? Two measly little days...and we're back to trying to be cool and cagey. I could feel it on the phone yesterday, and this morning. And I'm not saying it was only you. It was both of us."

He looked away toward the wall in thought for a few moments, considering what she had said. "How'd you get in here?" he asked.

"Kate. I called her. I wanted to take you by surprise, see your initial reaction. Because with the way we were on the phone last night, I was telling myself you wanted space…that you were regretting us, and all of the things my internal dialogue likes to tell me. I thought we were really trying this…honesty, forthrightness…you and I can point out those painful glaring truths with brutal honesty, but when it comes to this…when it comes to admitting we want each other for things besides the physical, we screw up. We're screwing up right now. I don't want to mess this up..."

"It was busy getting back to work…" he started to say, before conceding to the accuracy of her statement. "You're right."

"I needed to know how you felt. I had to confirm it, see your reaction to me, because I was worried that I had exaggerated what was going on between us."

"You honestly thought that I wouldn't be happy to see you?"

"I didn't know. I was thinking you were having some serious regrets…I want us to stop anticipating heartache and we need to avoid those assumptions we make about each other, or we are going to destroy this thing between us..._again_."

He nodded, wishing that she wasn't right, but realizing the truth in her statement.

"You said you are too busy, I'll go home tonight and come back tomorrow," she said, quickly kissing him on the cheek and turning to leave.

"Oh hell no," he said, grabbing her wrist, "You are here now…"

"So…are you too busy or not?" she said, smiling a confidently flirtatious smile, waiting for his answer.

"I was trying to give you an out. I really did miss having your nagging ass around."

"And I missed you and your obnoxious sexism," she smiled, saying the words sweetly.

He hadn't let go of her wrist since he pulled her back. Calmly rubbing his thumb along her hand and wrist he looked at her, his expression conveying his feeling of happiness that she was with him again.

"Since we're being honest, I want you to know something…I had a visitor…Matthew came by the clinic," she said, hesitantly, hoping he wouldn't react poorly.

"OK," he said, his thumb pausing for a moment, forcing a look of calm non-reaction, "Is there more to that story?"

"That one…no. I just wanted to make sure you knew so you didn't think I was trying to hide something if you found out later. But…I did do something… that I guess we should talk about…I felt I should tell you in person."

"Go on," he said, trying to sound unconcerned, but feeling the acid climbing up his esophagus and his heart lurching in his chest as he awaited her confession.

"I think I'm unemployed…"

He blinked in shock, replaying her statement in his head to verify that she had actually said the words that he least expected to hear from her. "Hunh…interesting. Guess this means we could actually run away…"

"I'd need to pack first," she smiled, joking with him as she sat down on the edge of his desk and he dropped down into his chair.

He looked past her, staring at the screen on his computer and clicking the mouse a few times with his free hand. She heard the printer behind him whir to life and he looked up at her, with the faintest smile across his lips. He kept his eyes on her, reaching behind him to the printer without averting his gaze.

"You aren't the least bit interested in what happened at work?" she asked, as he let go of her wrist and handed her the paper that printed out. He tapped at the paper with his finger to draw her attention down to the words printed on it, and lifted his brows expectantly, leaning forward slightly and waiting for her response.

Looking down at what he had handed her, Cuddy words stumbled from her mouth, "Are you serious?"


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N-** _Thanks so much to all of the readers, and particularly the reviewers since the last time: housebound, TheHouseWitch , Jane Q. Doe, JLCH, Josam, Asia, lenasti16, IHeartHouseCuddy, ClareBear14, dmarchl, Boo's House, jkarr, bigboss, CaptainK8, Mon Fogel, Bernice, iwuvhouse, harpomarx, JamHuddyFan, Abby, Alex, Scarlett Burns, HuddyGirl_

_I would like to thank RedTulipAna for providing some of the inspiration for the latter part of the chapter in an earlier review. Thanks for your reminder RTA!_

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. This __chapter contains adult content…it's blocked out with the "*" and a line, but read the parts before and after…they are pertinent. Plus…I don't think this one is super graphic, but it's entirely up to you if you want to skip._

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><p>House smiled at what was definitely an expression of awed joy on Cuddy's face. "We're running away?" she asked him as she looked over a detailed itinerary for a trip to Tahiti.<p>

"Well…I figured that perhaps it would be best for us to scope out a few of our top contenders first, before we commit to a location to run away to. So…that's a week-long run away. Gives us a good excuse to check out these theoretical locations in preparation for the day when we both completely lose it and decide the outside world is far too irritating for us to put up with anymore. I was playing around with some different trips, but since you said you won't have a job, I opened the last one I looked at and booked it."

"You think you can get off of work?"

"I've never taken a vacation day here, until I went with you, so I think I'll be alright. We have that wedding next weekend with Kate, then the following weekend, we leave for vacation. This whole working thing, deeply overrated. I knew I had a good reason for avoiding work…I'm eternally grateful for your return, having you around always seems to inspire me to not work," he said, smirking through slightly squinted eyes.

"I can't believe you did that."

"If you don't want to go…"

"Of course I want to go!" she said, kissing him delicately, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, it's a selfish attempt on my part to keep you for myself and make sure you are scantily clad the entire time…all while keeping you away from Princeton, because I'm pretty damn sure Simpson will be knocking down your door if he hears you're available."

"You OK to get out of here?" she asked, looking at him, her expression that of a temptress playing innocent.

He looked at the papers on his desk, "I'm ready, let's get out of here."

"So…" he said as they walked down the hall to leave, "what really happened at work?"

She took a long slow exhalation, still somewhat shocked at the events of the previous two days. "Thursday, I fired Snyder in the morning…Matthew showed up moments later, then a lawyer came in because he's filing a malpractice suit against the clinic and Snyder…I know…hardly a surprise, but the timing was just _fantastic_. I didn't get out of there until almost midnight Thursday. Then I go to the board meeting, which was earlier today, and I get hell from one of the board members for firing Snyder…apparently he's Snyder's uncle. So I'm sitting there, being berated for firing this guy…and all I can think is…you have got to be kidding me…there has _never_ been a more justified termination in my entire career…which is impressive, since you worked for me."

He shrugged and nodded with understanding at the truth of her statement while she spoke, "I earn a tiny fraction of what I made before…I mean tiny…fraction but seem to have the same irritating responsibilities without any of the perks. Then Snyder's uncle tells me I can either hire him back, or turn in my resignation, and the majority of the board…actually agrees…he's on the board because he donated a lot of the money for start-up and yearly funding. How can I compete with that?"

"I knew it"

"What, that my job sucks?"

"I knew you were looking for a sugar daddy…I should have been suspicious all along!"

"Yup, you figured me out, I've been looking for a man to take care of me," she responded sarcastically.

"Women are always trying to land me for just that very reason, but…I always wanted to have a stay-at-home woman waiting for me with scotch and slippers..."

"Of all of your fantasies, that's probably the one you're least likely to get help with from me."

"Really! That…is excellent news for all of my other fantasies."

"Idiot…" she laughed smiling flirtatiously as they walked out of the building. "I made good investments…and didn't spend a lot of what I had. I own my place outright…I'm not too worried. I'll find something else to keep me busy."

"Thinking of selling your place?" he asked casually as they approached the car.

"Not just yet, but probably down the line. It's big for just me. I'm back and forth between wanting to keep it because of Rachel and wanting to get rid of it because of Rachel. At some point I'll probably sell."

"And what…get an apartment in Baltimore…or..."

"Relax, I'm not trying to move in with you," she chided.

"Didn't you just warn me about making assumptions about what the other is thinking? I didn't say that, I was just curious."

"That's something for me to worry about later on."

"It wouldn't be a horrible idea if you wanted to live a bit closer, that's all," he said as they got to the car.

They drove for a few minutes in silence until he said with a teasing tone,"You got fired..."

"Yup. Go ahead, keep it up. Play one my insecurities with this, and you'll find me making a call to Simpson," she smirked challengingly at him.

"Fine...we can not talk too much about the no longer working thing. Are you going to play this card often?"

"Probably"

He smiled in response, replying, "You know, sometimes _you _are the mean one. I don't know why I have the bad rep."

"Sometimes I'm the nice one…" she said as she placed a hand on his knee and touched his leg just teasingly enough to be provocative but not enough to be overtly sexual.

"Whatever. You just feel you have to be nice to me now that I'm the breadwinner."

"I never should have told you I wasn't working there anymore until I found another job."

"No…it's OK…I'm used to being the dependable one in the relationship…I'm always there, cleaning up your messes," he said as if deeply burdened.

"Well, now at least I have proof that the drugs completely addled your memory."

"Be nice, or I'll cut your allowance," he said, picking up her hand and placing it midway up his thigh. "That's better," he said with a subtle grin.

"Kate?" Cuddy said as she drew feather-light lines with her fingers along his leg exactly where he had placed her hand, barely perceptible through his jeans, "she around this evening?"

"She has super fun wedding preparation plans for her 'friend' so she's out tonight, we'll see her some time tomorrow."

"We have the place to ourselves?"

"Yup"

"Go out for dinner?"

"Umm…nope," he grinned as she returned the smile.

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

When they arrived back at Kate's, the place was dark and empty, exactly as they had hoped it would be. After they walked into the living room he propped his cane in the corner and she shoved him back against the closet door, her eyes filled with passion. She bit her own lip, looking him over for a moment before kissing him as if it would be their last time.

So many of their sessions were like that, tinged with the passion of lovers grasping that one last contact, because no matter what, some part of them would always worry that it was the last time, no matter how much they reassured each other. That was their strength and their weakness. The sense that the other's presence was completely ephemeral, which encouraged their mutual infatuation, their deep desire for each other and their fear. Each supposed that being taken entirely for granted was a far worse fate.

"I love it when you're aggressive," he chuckled as he allowed her to move over him unhindered, kissing his jaw line, nipping at his shoulder and pulling off his shirt while he stood with his hands passively on her hips. She grasped his hips roughly and ground against him as she kissed his mouth again, pleased that she could feel the groan in her mouth and the reverberation throughout his ribcage.

He was lost in her, appreciating her control in this situation more than he ever could anywhere else. She was undoing his pants with one hand, while stroking his length with the other through his clothes. His stomach muscles contracted as she ran her hands along them before slipping her hands along his hips to his ass, to push the jeans and boxers down at once. She kissed down his stomach, working lower, until he pulled her back up and started to unbutton her shirt, wanting to feel her, warm and naked, against him. She looked at him, eyes heavy with lust and said throatily, "Please?"

He breathed out a small laugh and said, "What, you're actually asking politely…"

She nodded her head slowly, leaning in with deliberate poise and pressing her lips to his, their fullness and softness unbelievably easy to get lost in. When she pulled back, he watched her moving lower, kissing along his stomach again, staring up at him. When he saw her lips come close to the tip of his erection he was almost overwhelmed by the sheer anticipation. His head dropped back against the closet door, making a loud thud that made her giggle softly as she continued.

He tried to avoid looking at her, wanting to prolong the sensations, enjoy every moment, but the urge to see her, to know that it was her with him, and not just a mere fantasy, overwhelmed him. She had occupied so many of his fantasies, even after they broke up, when he swore to himself that he'd never want her again, he found her creeping back into his dreams and thoughts. She was always there, the object of his desire, even after having her countless times, in numerous ways, he couldn't break the spell.

When he finally could resist no longer and looked down at her, his sense of control was lost. After his climax, he found himself feeling lucky that he was leaning back firmly against the door, as he seemed to have no control over his limbs momentarily until full awareness settled back over him.

"Holy hell, Cuddy…you are so…" he shook his head, still leaning back against the door.

She giggled looking particularly feminine and disappeared for a few moments, returning to find him still leaning against the door, but having pulled his jeans back over his hips, still unbuttoned. She handed him a drink and said, "Fine…I'll bring you scotch but you'll have to get your own slippers"

He grinned at her, appreciating her thoughtfulness. "You didn't have to…" he said, after taking a swig.

"I asked nicely," she flirted. "Plus…I'm pretty certain I can count on reciprocation…and likely another round or two later…after all, you've had two days of rest."

She started to walk back toward the kitchen and found his hands around her waist, pulling her back toward the sofa. It often amazed her how he could seem to move so quickly, when properly motivated, for someone with a limp. "You mentioned reciprocation?" he asked, whispering into her ear and causing her to shiver.

"Mmm hmm," she moaned softly.

He pushed her against the back of the sofa, which faced the center part of the living room, so that she was sitting on the top of the seat back as he held her with crushing force to his body. He felt her wiggling against him and felt the surge of powerful arousal that she only could give him, her reactions so honest and visceral during intimacy in stark contrast to her cool, controlled behavior in nearly all other aspects of life.

He pulled her shirt and slacks quickly from her body, wanting to be able to touch any part of her, at any moment without obstruction, highlighting the vulnerability that she granted him so willingly. He placed both hands along her neck and jawline to kiss her, and then moved them slowly down her body, along her collarbone, the sides of her breasts, along her narrow waist to rest on her hips and pull her roughly to him. She was gasping perfectly, signaling her wordless approval. He dropped down on his knees and she thought about offering to move, concerned that his leg would be put under too much strain, but she refrained, knowing that he always hated feeling that his prowess was limited by his thigh.

When his mouth came in contact with her center, she was already fully aroused and quivering against him, gasping again as his hand reached up to firmly tug at a nipple. He looked up to see her lip curl upwards, her mouth open, the fingers of her one hand stretching to full extension before wrapping around his neck.

She was tipping back on the sofa, so he moved his hands to the backs of her hips and small of her back, holding her in place. She didn't even have to look at him to know exactly how he looked in that moment. He would be lost, devoted to her with the utmost precision.

After their horrible breakup and her relocation, she went out on a particularly depressing blind date with a man who attempted to bring her to his bed, fumbling ineptly at her on the sofa until she offered her good night and left him there alone.

That night, she went home frustrated, a night all to herself since Rachel was with her mother, and yet she couldn't seem to find a single man who could hold her interest. As she lay in bed touching herself with practiced perfection, it was House who came to her mind. She tried to dismiss the thoughts repeatedly, but they wouldn't cease. After several moments she yielded to them, rationalizing that after all of the terrible things he had done, she could justify using her memories of him for that purpose and that purpose alone.

After that, she repeatedly called on thoughts of him, on the visions and sensations produced by their unions, trying ardently to ignore the sense of shame and irritation that inevitably followed.

She looked down on him from the back of the sofa, and the realization that the moment wasn't a fantasy, that he was there with her, worshiping her body as only he could, and she was completely overcome by her climax, writhing against him with wanton disregard, and holding on, not for fear of falling as she probably should have been, but because she was completely unable to let go.

When her body relaxed she tipped backwards, her shoulders falling down toward the seat of the sofa.

He pulled her up to a seated position again and helped her stand. "Let's go to my room. We fall asleep out here, and Kate comes home early and gets a look at you naked, we'll never get a moment of peace again," he joked flatteringly.

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

They flopped down onto his bed, his upper body partially draped over her. They started chatting sleepily about their vacation, and their eagerness to be away with each other again when House mumbled, "I just wish we didn't have this stupid wedding next weekend…we could leave sooner."

"It might be fun," she said lazily, near sleep.

"It won't be fun. Let's just tell everyone _we_ got married, and we're going on our honeymoon…so...we can't make it. Can you imagine the reactions…me…getting hitched."

She didn't answer him, and he thought for a moment that she may have been asleep until he heard her. "Get off of me," she said softly.

"Later," he answered softly in return, burying his face against her neck.

"I said," she repeated, much louder, "get…the fuck…off of me"

"What?" he asked, stunned, as he lifted his head. She shoved him back roughly removing the arm that was wrapped around her and rolling him back. "What just happened?"

"You can be such an insensitive ass!"

"What? You really want to get married? Or you really, really don't?"

"No…trust me, I don't"

"Then what's the fucking problem?"

"Of course I can picture it! I was there, if you recall, when you fucking got married. When you stood there right in front of me, to prove to me _exactly_ how little I meant to you."

"I already told you that wasn't relevant…and the entire thing was over and done with close to three years ago, why is this even an issue?"

She stood up from the bed, grabbing one of his shirts from the closet and walking swiftly from the room.

He followed her out to the living room where she was sitting on the sofa and he said, "Let's just get this done, because I want to start feeling like shit so I can get it over with."

"When are you going to _stop_ assuming that I'm going to break up with you every single time I'm unhappy?"

"I guess when you actually do break up with me…then the mystery will be solved and I won't have to assume anymore."

"What can I do? You tell me what you want. What level of commitment will silence this expectation that I'm going to crush you?"

"You going to propose?" he asked snidely.

Her eyes closed slowly at his question as she took deep breaths. He prepared himself, because he knew she was angry. He waited for her litany of complaints and tallied faults and the reemergence of her rage. His mind started trying to prepare, readying potential jibes and comebacks so he wouldn't find himself ill-equipped to handle the discussion.

At the exact moment he was convinced she was going to attack, she sank against the furniture, her arms hanging limply to her sides. Then, he noticed her eyes were filled with tears although none of them fell from the strength of her will alone.

"What?" he asked aloud, unintentionally verbalizing the very thought that went through his mind. "I still have no idea what's going on!"

"You married someone else while my bed was still warm. I meant, so precious fucking little to you, that you married some whore and flaunted it in my face mere moments after we broke up."

"No…" he began before she interrupted.

"NO? I was there, don't you remember?"

"I meant, no it wasn't that you meant so little. It was that you meant so much…"

"You're jerking me around."

"No. You meant so much to me…I…lost it. You were there, you saw me crumble..."

"Why didn't you stop the whole thing? Why didn't you just take a few minutes to try to talk to me like an adult?" she pleaded.

"Me…then? You don't honestly think that was within the realm of possibility for me at that time. Or really, ever! When would I be the type to crawl back to you after you hurt me?"

"Not crawl back...but why couldn't you just come to me…just talk, say anything, tell me you missed me, or you wanted to try to do something to make it better…You did that all...just to hurt me."

"Yes," he said without guilt or emotion of any kind. "I did do it to hurt you."

"You succeeded beyond your wildest dreams! You completely insured that I gave up all hope of any sort of reconciliation. You demonstrated exactly why you were so bad for me… See you complain that I hid you…that I was embarrassed of you. You one-upped me. You wanted to prove to everyone that I never mattered, sort of worse than hiding someone, don't you think…flaunting their unimportance?"

He scoffed, "It had nothing to do with proving anything to anyone except you. You sometimes can't see what's right in front of you…all those years, in all those bad situations…you _always_ covered for me or tried to stop me before I did something stupid. Why didn't you then? You were the adult in the situation. Why didn't you come to me, ask me to rethink? Tell me maybe you wanted us to try something different?"

"You are going to blame that on me too?" she said, her voice wavering somewhat.

"I'm not blaming you. I'm just saying that I thought you'd stop it. I thought you'd come up with something, that you'd find some way to stop the train…I really did. I thought it was just a matter of biding my time until you ceased my insanity…and you didn't. That's completely unlike you. The breakup hurt…but you, basically washing your hands of me…that was almost worse."

"That whole day…was like a dream. I couldn't believe it was happening. And I remembered, sitting there, on your bed, remembering how happy we were in that same spot not even a year before. All of those moments we shared, when we started this, with our guards down. Happy and…in love. Because we were. I thought you'd follow me…I thought that maybe some small speck of you still cared enough to not want to hurt me that badly."

"I thought we covered this…I didn't know you were still harboring all of these feelings about something that I just see as a blip in my memory. My recall of those months…is poor…but to me, that wedding…just didn't matter."

"Of course it didn't" she replied, her voice heavy with somber anger.

"It didn't matter, but…it does matter that it hurt you. That it still bothers you now."

She stared again, blankly, as she thought over his words. "Tell me what you want, Cuddy…because, I will do whatever you want to make you stop feeling the way you feel."

She regarded him with a look of near confusion as she weighed his words, his tone so thick with sincerity that it seemed to her perhaps the most honest thing she had ever heard him say besides 'I love you,' which he said infrequently, but never said with anything less than complete and total candor. His eyes were filled with regret and apology.

"I always sort of figured if there was anyone I could marry..."

She laughed softly, with just a hint of bitterness, "I don't want to marry you, _particularly_ not to make me feel better"

"That's not what I meant"

"I know. What's marriage mean anyway…half the time it's a bunch of glitz for couples who walk away just as easily as people who have been dating for a few weeks. I don't need to stand in front of other people to know how I feel. And I'm not dumb enough to think that you would take a second marriage seriously, if you didn't take the first one seriously."

"Like anything else, it is what you make it. And I'm not the only one with a failed marriage…"

"You weren't in my life, and I didn't do that to hurt you…"

"I know. But it was important enough to hide. But...I'm honestly sorry. I didn't know you were still that upset about this…"

"When we were at your old place the other day…a lot of it came back."

"I shouldn't have taken you there."

"I liked it…mostly…there were some good times there. But…right before we left, things just sort of…popped up in my head."

"Why not tell me then…"

"Because we were an hour or so away from separating. Because we were going back to our old lives and I didn't want to part on that note."

He nodded his head. "I'm pretty observant, but sometimes I just don't know there's something going on in your head."

"You shouldn't have to guess."

They went to the kitchen to get food, talking calmly, again each somewhat surprised that they weathered another heated argument without catastrophe.

Cuddy was heating something in the microwave when House said thoughtfully, "Are you sitting there, secretly thinking that we fight too much."

She could feel him watching her for clues. She chuckled, "No, I'm not. We're always going to fight, it's just who we are."

"What else haven't you told me? Lying by omission is still lying."

"Like you tell me everything," she said dryly. She thought for a moment, "I…kept a caterpillar once…in a shoe box under my bed when I was six. It died…probably because I only gave it chocolate."

"Why would you give a caterpillar chocolate?"

"I was six!"

He accepted her answer, "Anything else, besides your heartless slaughter of an insect?"

"Nothing else important," she smiled.

"How do I know?"

"You don't"

"I want to know"

"There isn't anything. If there is, I'll try to bring it up sooner."

"OK," he answered.

After they finished eating the food they found, they returned to bed. He pulled her near, as closely as he could, wrapping both arms around her, feeling much clingier than usual. She looked up at his face and saw in his eyes, in the tightness of his lips, the depths of his apology. "I know," she said as he returned a tiny smile.

"Cuddy…I wouldn't now…I wouldn't do that…"

"I believe that," she said, "things are different."

He relaxed down into the pillows, tracing the fingers of one hand along her arms, shoulders and back.

"Hey…" he said softly, "I really do wish I could change some things."

"Me too"

"Mostly I just wish…" she looked at him, waiting for him to continue, "I wish…I would have saved myself for you."

She snickered at his joke, "Right! You...are a huge idiot."

When she met his gaze he was smiling, pleased to see her grinning up at him again, finally resting her head on his chest again, trying to go to sleep. "Theoretically…" he started.

"Theoretically?" she asked.

"Well lets say in five years or ten years, if by some strange fluke, we manage to keep this whole thing going…"

"Mmm…" she said, nearly purring her approval.

He stopped for a moment, realizing that she didn't just disregard the possibility as she had so often in the past.

"Well, would you really not even consider some sort of formalization of the relationship?"

"Formalization?" she asked, lifting her head to look at him again. "Umm…ask me that question after we make it a year or two."

"Do I get credit for time served?"

She laughed against him, "No. This is a distinctly fresh start …so far…so good."


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N**_-40 chapters? Holy crap how'd this get to 40 chapters already?_

_I'm brimming with thanks for all readers, and all of the reviewers since the last update-bonneiyy77, JLCH (If you are reading this does that mean you aren't writing right now? :) ) CaptainK8, Josam, newdayz, berenice, IHeartHouseCuddy (glad you enjoyed the goulash!), lenasti16, dmarchl, Kirey, Little Greg (your name made me giggle), yahnis14, ClareBear14, TheHouseWitch, Alex, lisa Marie, Abby (thank you for being such an awesomely loyal reviewer!), JamHuddyFan, HuddyGirl (awww…), Jane Q. Doe, Irina (thanks for leaving me your thoughts!), Mon Fogel (I really appreciate the translation that you sent!) and LiaHuddy_

_I look forward to reading each review, so thank you!_

**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>House was stirred from sleep by the sound of the patio door sliding in its track and knew Kate must have come home early. His leg was sore from their earlier activities, so he rubbed it to get it loose enough to move, trying not to wake Cuddy from a deep slumber. Shoving his pillow along her side where he was resting minutes earlier, he limped gingerly to the bathroom.<p>

He groaned with displeasure when he caught his reflection in the mirror, and considered the aches throughout his body. The last few weeks had helped him forget his age from time to time, but looking and feeling the way he did in the middle of the night was a clear reminder. He sneered at the mirror before creeping out of the bathroom, finding his cane hanging on the edge of the dresser, and walking out to the kitchen.

The only light in the room came from above the sink, just enough illumination to make the sharp edges of the counters known and the fridge visible for late night raiding. The sliding door was cracked, and he could tell Kate was sitting on the patio by the periodic orange glow from the tip of a cigarette.

He winced, knowing that it was a rare occasion when Kate resorted to her old habit, and it was usually a sign that all was not well. He approached the patio, flicking on the outside light, before opening the door enough to walk through.

"Turn that off…I don't want to lure every bug in town," Kate said, with a slight slur in her voice.

He reached back inside to turn off the light and pushed the door shut again. He sat in the patio chair next to hers and put his feet up, kicking her feet off of the same low table and provoking no reaction whatsoever.

Looking over at her, his eyes gradually adjusted to the dark, and he could finally see her face a bit more clearly. She looked worn and completely weary. He was relatively certain that she had, at some point, been crying, so he heeded the advice she had given him for dealing with Cuddy, and numerous other people, 'if you don't know what to say, or you are about to say something monumentally stupid, say nothing at all,' a slight embellishment on the well-known adage.

Instead of speaking, he grabbed her forearm between two long fingers and used it like a swing arm, bringing the bottle that was firmly clasped in her hand over to him and prying it from her fingers before taking a swig.

"Y'OK?" he asked, after putting the bottle back in her hand.

She brought the bottle back to her mouth and nodded 'yes' before taking another drink and handing the bottle back to him.

Seeing her like this was undeniably difficult for him, not only because he legitimately cared about her, but because he could remember with crystal clarity the nights when he had been in her place.

When he began at Penn, his first day, standing in the line at the cafeteria, he actually forgot his wallet. Not in the annoyingly convenient way he often did, waiting for Wilson or one of his fellows to pick up the tab, but he honestly forgot it. He looked around the room, knowing perfectly well that he didn't know anyone who was there.

A woman, who had just walked into the cafeteria, sauntered up to the front of the line, paid his bill, smiled and left. He was instantly intrigued. She didn't wait for a thank you or a response of any kind. No introductions, no reaching out…she just paid, and left. So he followed her.

He located her moments later, after she had made her own way through the line and was seated in a corner alone with a book. Sitting down at her table, he said, "Quite an ass," pointing at a woman only a few feet away.

He was trying to annoy her, trying to test her reaction to his harassment, which he expected to be punitive. "Yes…you are…" she said calmly, still reading her book.

He was even more intrigued, she didn't seem upset, just naturally answering him as if they had known each other for years. "Wait until 10 after," the woman said.

He looked at her and then at his watch and decided to wait, his curiosity getting the better of him. At ten after, a significantly better looking woman walked into the cafeteria as his new friend folded her book shut and waited until the woman walked by, "Hi, Dr. Vega," the woman said, smiling flirtatiously while she walked past.

"Kate Vega," she said, holding out a hand to House and flashing a cocky grin.

He leaned over the table and said, probingly, "Do you already have a best friend?"

Their friendship began that day in the cafeteria and it would be less than two weeks before he moved his things into her home.

She was a psychiatrist, a fact that he initially regarded with some derision, but conversation between them flowed easily and she didn't seem to bring her professional judgments and attitude into normal human interactions. The strangest thing, he later learned, was that she _was_ always a psychiatrist at heart, or at least interested in understanding people, and often helping them as well, but she was gifted enough to be completely disarming. After a few months, he was trusting her with secrets that were long kept hidden. Kate was one of the least judgmental people he had ever known, somehow able to avoid judging his past actions, while attempting to help him figure out better ways of doing things for the future. Most importantly perhaps, was the fact that she never seemed much like a shrink. She was just…conversing…listening…

Kate's explanation to Cuddy that House was like a brother was quite accurate. The two cared deeply and altruistically for each other, often engaging in sibling rivalries and competitions while gladly turning their scorn on those that caused trouble for the other. She had told him she loved him on several occasions, although he never reciprocated the words. From her, he accepted it, even sometimes appreciated it, because she offered her friendship like she offered him the money in the cafeteria, completely without strings, the need for reciprocation or even the expectation of thanks.

In the years he had lived there, he had never really seen Kate devastated. She was strong, typically somewhat upbeat but not naively optimistic, and able to avoid most emotional attachments with the women she dated. Sure, she had bad days, but she had never seemed defeated.

He looked over at her, smoking and sipping whiskey, and realized there was a first time for everything.

"Tell me…" he said coolly, looking ahead.

"Went to help Luce do a final fitting for her dress…"

House nodded, thinking that Kate's distress was because of the wedding, until she spoke again, "Then we had dinner, I had a few drinks, we had hours of really amazing sex and I took a cab home."

House stopped nodding, eyes wide, mouth slightly opened, "Oh! Good for you. And...now I don't have to go to that stupid wedding?"

"You still have to go to the stupid wedding. She's still marrying her boyfriend."

"So, is that a lesbian bridal shower tradition, sleeping with the bride to be? I always suspected that bridal things were more fun than bachelor parties or there wouldn't be such a veil of secrecy…" he said, trying to get a laugh that wasn't forthcoming.

"We were just… getting it out of our systems."

"I…don't think it works like that."

"It has to. It is what it is."

"So she's going through with the wedding…you know…the complete sham she's about to perpetrate…"

"It isn't a sham," Kate answered calmly.

"You're…just going to let this happen?"

"I'm happy for them."

"Your lies are boring."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Do _something_…don't just sit there with your acceptance crap and let yourself be miserable," he said, growing frustrated.

"You know what projection is…right? We…are not the same person, I am not you, one month ago," Kate said, for the first time looking at him directly and with certainty. "Anyway, she's having some rehearsal dinner party at the bar tomorrow night, do you have time to come in, help me keep up with the crowd?"

He nodded, knowing perfectly well that she didn't want him there merely to serve the patrons.

He clenched his jaw, exhaled sharply and looked down. They settled into silence for a few minutes, sharing the drink and the quiet comfortably.

"Lisa here?" Kate asked.

"Sleeping," House answered. "She was forced to resign, so she might be around more often. That…OK?"

"Of course it is. Why'd she have to resign?"

"A little stupidity, a pinch of nepotism and an asshole with a lot of money..."

"We're looking for someone in the ER…nights…"

"You can tell her, but, if she takes it, you'll have to cuddle me until I can get to sleep every night."

"Tempting…but unlikely. Very cool, though…her being around, not the cuddling. I didn't hear many updates so I was hoping you didn't decide to start acting stupid," she said, without a hint of jealousy or animosity. "I am so unbelievably impressed."

"I get that a lot," he said, sounding more bitter and irritated than good-humored.

"Ass," Kate tried to chuckle. "You…have done well"

"I don't need your patronizing bullshit."

"It's not patronizing bullshit. Be quiet and listen."

He stopped talking and took another swig from their bottle, telling her with his gaze that she should continue and that he wasn't interested in whatever she had to say.

"It's harder to open yourself up to getting hurt than it is to hide. You deserve to be a happy, because your life has been shitty for way too long. And I know you had to step way out of your safe zone to get here."

"Thanks," he said, not entirely meaning his words.

"I, on the other hand, _really_ screwed up this time," Kate said softly.

"If she didn't want to, she could have said no."

Kate chuckled, pausing for a second to take a swig, and then saying, "She came on to me, dumbass."

"What do you do to these women…honestly?"

"Yea…one helluva talent, being able to convince tons of women to have sex with you and not a single one to actually care about you."

"Don't feed me that crap. You know you're the one that chooses to keep most of them at arm's length. So…wait…she came on to you?"

"Yea, she…wasn't even drinking, she told me she'd drive me, so I had a few over dinner."

"She's a bitch," he grumbled, his eyes showing his frustration, "I've never been super fond of her anyway, but that's just low. Instead of just letting it go after you guys talked last week, she takes you out for drinks, lures you into her bed and then expects you to sit and watch her get married next week!"

He was half yelling, angry, until the reality of the last few words hit him, and he realized the parallel to his own sham wedding, and how it must have hurt Cuddy. "Oh fuck…" he said, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. Earlier that night he did feel bad for Cuddy, but it was only because he could see that she was hurt and sad, and acknowledged that he was the cause. But while he was talking to Kate, he realized for the first time the depths of the cruelty of his gesture, and the reasons why the marriage was so painful for her.

He realized Kate was watching him, trying to figure the reason for his reaction. "Nevermind," he said, "I just realized something. It doesn't matter. Fuck Lucy's wedding, we'll leave the bar in the hands of the underlings and go for a night of debauchery next week."

"She's my friend. I'm going. I could have said no, I knew what I was doing."

He watched her for a few moments and realized that he needed a plan. House was accused of being many things over the years, most of which were true to some extent, but, he was a fiercely loyal friend, and was always protective of those he cared about, particularly in matters of the heart.

"Stop thinking," she said, lighting another cigarette, which he pulled from her fingers and brought to his own lips. She calmly reached into the pack and took another, "I'm OK. This, like everything else will soon be a memory. It just sucks for tonight, tomorrow I'll be fine."

House finished half of the cigarette before stomping it out, stole a final slug of her drink and stood. "Night," he said, already distracted by his racing thoughts.

He went back to his room, slipping back into bed where Cuddy was still sleeping. He took the place of the pillow he left against her and wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer. "Your leg bugging you?" she mumbled.

She repositioned herself and reached down so she could rub the sore area. "It's fine," he said, pulling her hand away from his thigh and up to his chest to hold against him.

"Did you go out?" she asked, "You smell like a bar."

"Was talking to Kate. She's home."

"You sure you're OK?"

"Yea. Cuddy, I feel like shit for everything…"

She hummed softly to interrupt him. "It's OK, you're here now," she said, mirroring his own response to her heartfelt apology days earlier. She moved closer, burying her nose along his neck.

"Thanks for giving me another chance," he said, with profound sincerity.

"Back atcha," she replied groggily.

He appreciated that, in what was so often game of guilt and accusation, they each acknowledged some degree of culpability in their disastrous end. He was certain he'd never fall asleep, and then he did.

Cuddy woke, extricating herself from his tight grasp and sneaking into the bathroom. When she went to wash her hands, she caught a glance at her reflection and sighed, feeling so much younger than she thought she looked, "Urgh, why do men age so much more gracefully."

After splashing water on her face she padded out to the kitchen to make coffee and saw the still partially opened patio door. When she walked over to it, she saw the evidence of the previous night's occurrences. Kate was still on the patio, legs out in front of her, propped on a small table, hands folded on her lap, head tilted awkwardly to one side and snoring loudly. There was an entire pack's worth of cigarettes consumed and piled in an overflowing ashtray, and a bottle of whiskey that was far too empty to have been used casually, on the deck next to Kate.

Cuddy watched Kate for a moment, with a sad and sympathetic smile across her face. Passed out on the deck under the already warm morning sun, Kate looked suspiciously like House had on many occasions. Cuddy thought about going back inside, but leaving Kate there to sleep it off until she was sunburnt seemed unnecessarily thoughtless.

Cuddy sat next to her and put a hand on her arm. "Kate, come on, I'll help you get to your room."

Kate's eyes squinted open, the headache that was already setting in, obvious in her expression. "There's a sight worth waking up for," Kate whispered, her mouth and throat dry.

"It's awfully early for shameless flattery," Cuddy said, as she slipped into the kitchen to grab a sports drink and handed it to Kate, who took it and finished half of it before closing the lid.

"Rough night?" Cuddy asked.

Kate made an unhappy growling sound, and then said, "Attachment, love, romance…the best and worst of life you know?"

"Couldn't agree more," Cuddy said, helping to pull her out of the chair and on to her feet.

"Can I tell everyone you took me to bed?"

"If you mention the exact context, sure."

"Killjoy"

"Yea, you go ahead and deal with House's reaction to that."

"I wouldn't do that to family."

Cuddy all but dragged her into her room, "Well, it's clear you share the 'self-destructive' and 'self-medicating idiot' genes, perfect family resemblance. Come on Kate, use your feet, give a girl a hand here."

Kate stood, "I'm sorry, I feel like shit."

"I can tell."

Cuddy dropped her onto her bed and helped her off with her shoes and socks. She got her another sports drink and when she heard the sickly groan emanating from Kate's direction, got a cold wash cloth and brought them both back to Kate's room.

"Here, drink more of this," Cuddy said, "and I'll leave an extra one here, for when you wake up."

Kate finished the first one and flopped back down.

"Is this about Lucy?"

Kate grumbled an answer, "Just ask House, he'll tell you, I'm done talking about it."

"OK. Roll on your side."

Kate did as she was instructed, and Cuddy placed the cool washcloth at the base of her skull across her neck, Kate sighing appreciatively. "You must have been an amazing mom."

"Not really," Cuddy chuckled softly, as she placed a hand on Kate's shoulder and patted it reassuringly.

"All of the really good moms think they aren't good enough…because they always wish they could do better...think their kids deserve more..."

Cuddy smiled at the statement, thinking it over and actually feeling somewhat good about her insecurities stemming from motherhood. She covered Kate lightly with a sheet, shut the blinds and closed the door as she left.

She poured her coffee, found a journal in the living room, and returned to bed in House's room. Propping a pillow up along the headboard, she sat next to him, sipping her coffee and reading as he slept.

When he woke his head was in her lap, her fingers absently tracing his jaw and ear. "It was just one cigarette," he said immediately when he opened his eyes.

"OK," she responded without breaking her concentration from her reading.

"And a few drinks," he added.

"OK," she responded, still lost in her reading.

"You're mad aren't you?"

She stopped, lowered her reading and looked down at him, "Yes, I'm furious," she said, her voice indicating otherwise, "I always sit next to you and rub your scruffy face while you're sleeping when I'm pissed." She shook her head with disbelief before returning to her reading.

"You used to get pretty irritated about the smoking and sometimes even the drinking..."

She shrugged, as she pushed his head back down to her lap and went back to tracing the contours of his face, "I'm almost done reading this section," she said.

He smiled against her lap, closing his eyes and waiting.

When she was finished reading, she asked about his conversation with Kate. He updated her after Cuddy assured him it was OK to disclose the specifics of their overnight discussion.

"Lucy, the fiancé and the wedding crew will be at the bar tonight, I'm going to go in to help…maybe we should keep an eye on things."

Cuddy scoffed, "Are you advocating meddling?"

"Oh, I always am pro-_me_-meddling. I just don't want other people doing it to me. Unless it's you…you can meddle with anything you'd like," he said lasciviously.

His attitude suddenly became very serious. "Kate…doesn't fall apart," he added somberly. "She's the one who stays stable while other people fall apart. Time for me to play the grown up."

Cuddy nodded, "I'll help, _within reason_…just tell me what you want me to do."

"Dunno yet," he said honestly, "for now, let's just make sure Kate survives the week."


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N**-_Thanks to all who have read and reviewed since the last time: lenasti16, IHeartHouseCuddy, Josam, JLCH, housebound, southpaw2, Boo's House, Abby, TheHouseWitch, Alex, HuddyGirl, dmarchl, Irina, ClareBear14, JamHuddyFan, iridescentZEN  
><em>

_It's amazing how many of you relate to Kate's circumstance, which is both really cool (as an author)...and really sad, at the same time! I'm so excited that many of you feel I'm doing the characters justice, which is perhaps the greatest compliment. So many really kind reviews.  
><em>

_Also thanks to everyone favoriting/alerting this story, and for those of you who plug the story on Twitter...so appreciated. Anyway, for all of your support, in all of its various forms...I thank you._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

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><p>House and Cuddy rode into the bar with Kate to help her complete her Saturday work routine. Kate was suspicious that they were trying to babysit her after her difficult night, but when she mentioned it to the pair, House said, "I'm not being nice, you just look like you may be the first person to literally have their head pop off, completely of its own accord, in a last ditch effort to get away from you…and I'd hate to miss the chance at a front row seat to <em>that<em> phenomenon!"

When they got there, Kate sent House to do some inventorying while she began to work on the books in the office. Cuddy made sure all of the liquor bottles were properly reshelved after the previous night's sales, and went to find Kate in the office, who was leaning over the books on the desk cradling her head, still feeling the lingering effects of a long night of drinking.

Cuddy asked what she could do to assist as she looked over Kate's shoulder at a ledger. "You…still do all this stuff on an old ledger?" Cuddy questioned.

"Yea, that's how I learned to do it, why?"

"It's just more work than it needs to be. Plus you made an error there…" she said, pointing to one of the lines of the ledger. "Where's your inventory?"

Kate pulled it out and handed it to Cuddy, who began to look visibly distressed. "How opposed to change are you?" Cuddy asked.

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><p>House finished inventory and order sheets and walked back toward the office. He found Kate standing outside of the office, looking in, one hand propped against the frame of the door, staring blankly inside. Kate turned her gaze to House for a moment, eyes filled with wonder, and a bit of shock.<p>

"You alright?" he asked, concerned, and she simply gestured with her head for him to look in the office before she turned her gaze back inside.

As he limped closer he could hear Cuddy inside, her voice both cheerful and confident, and he peered into the office over Kate's shoulder. Books and ledgers strewn about, in the process of being neatly ordered, and a computer chugging tiredly in the background under the burden of far more work than it was used to seeing, were evidence of Cuddy utilizing some of her finest skills.

Neither he, nor Kate, registered much of what she was saying, both awed at the sight before their eyes. Before them was the magical transformation from chaos and disorder to harmony and functionality.

Cuddy clicked at the keyboard, "So next time, if you enter this figure here…it will make the necessary adjustments in all three places…"

She stopped talking when she turned away from the desk to address Kate, and saw that House had joined her. Both of them stood outside of the office, blankly staring at her. "WHAT?" she asked.

"You want a job?" Kate asked, "I can't pay you much…I can give you free room and board…and hell I'll throw in the Grumpy the gimp to sweeten the deal…"

House squinted while he thought about his feelings on the matter. "I _am_ a devastatingly handsome and talented incentive package," he added, deciding he was OK with being part of the deal.

"I'd take your offer, but I think I'm stuck with him anyway…I'm just helping out…I can show you or your manager how to do this stuff," Cuddy answered, quite pleased that Kate seemed to appreciate her efforts.

Cuddy spun around to the desk again and continued to, at almost a frantic pace, organize and conquer.

They left her alone to work while they moved on to other tasks. Two hours later, House approached the office just in time to see Cuddy ending a phone call. He stood in the door way to the office. "I knew it was bothering you…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Not having a job. You're playing it all cool, going for the super relaxed Cuddy vibe…but you just opened up a whole can administrative whoop-ass on this place…"

"I'm just trying to help"

"I know, but I can see it. You…are freaking out."

"Oh please," she said with disbelief, before her façade began to crack, "Fine, maybe a tiny little bit."

"Was that Simpson on the phone," he asked suspiciously.

"Definitely not."

"Are you certain? No lies!"

"I'm not _lying_! It wasn't Simpson, or anyone from Princeton, it was a friend of mine who I finally called back. She left me a few messages while we were gone, and I think she was getting concerned."

"This, 'friend'...did you two discuss employment, is she perhaps in a position of either power or influence, that you thought that she could facilitate future employment for you?"

"Wow, now you're both a doctor and a lawyer…that was one hell of a cross-examination. No…the call was not about a job. It was personal," Cuddy said, avoiding his gaze before forcing herself to meet it again.

He walked in, leaned against the corner of the desk casually and said, "Are we going to pretend that I didn't just see that awkward little eye thing you did? What's going on?"

"It's not about the call."

"Then it's about…" he stretched the word out, waiting for her to complete the thought he started.

She sighed, and he could see her organizing the thoughts in her head as clearly as he had seen her organizing the office.

"Cuddy, what in the hell's going on?" he asked, a hint of nervousness showing in his tone.

"I'm just...trying not to rush this," she pointed back and forth to the two of them to indicate that she was referring to their relationship.

"I didn't think you _were_ rushing it."

"Not yet, but I don't want to start rushing it."

"Right, I've only known you half a lifetime, pretty much your entire adult life, let's not be impulsive."

She sighed, pressing her lips tightly together as she tilted her head to one side. "We weren't actually in each other's lives the entire time…and a lot of it you spent avoiding me…"

"OK, what do you want to know about me?"

"Nothing…"

He looked at her, his face covered with confusion, silently asking for her to put an end to the mystery.

"OK," she began talking with a deep breath, "I really don't want to send you running for the hills or suddenly find you being awkward and brooding, and watch this all fall apart. But…I…do intend on getting a job…"

"Sort of figured you'd get one, that's not a big surprise. Since you said you weren't talking to Simpson, should I take that to mean you may be looking at Penn?"

"No," she shook her head, "I wouldn't crowd you like that without consulting you first. I'm just not sure where to look."

"Meaning… you don't know if you want to be a doctor or an administrator?"

"I mean geographically. You…have a lot here...Kate, the research, your jobs...I have a home and some memories in Baltimore, but not much else. So, the thought did cross my mind of finding a job a little closer, but…I wasn't sure how to bring that up with you. But if I _don't_ bring it up, does that mean I start somewhere and then in a few years one of us needs to give up their job, and then resents the other one, or we both have to quit, or we just decide that we should keep separate places forever…"

"You're sort of rambling," he interrupted. "Maybe you should just ask what I think instead of letting the voices in your head hold a roller derby to sort it out."

"I know how you get when you're pressured or pushed."

"Asking where I stand is hardly pushing or pressuring."

"But you're going to take it that way, and I don't want you to go silent on me."

"Says the woman who was flirting with catatonia only a few weeks ago. And was avoiding this _discussion_ as recently as a few minutes ago…"

She looked away, transferring her attention to the way her fingers rocked a pen between them.

"Yesterday, you wouldn't even discuss the theoretical possibility of us formalizing our relationship five or ten years down the line, so which one of us is more afraid of this situation?"

"I am," she granted. "I don't want to push things too quickly, and at the same time, if things continue going as well as they have been…"

She stopped speaking and looked at him, hoping for a sign in his expression, or more accurately, waiting, in the hopes that he would make it easier on her and finish the statement. He knew exactly where she was going with the discussion, and at that point, refused to make it any easier on her.

He was the one to first confess his love while they were in Baltimore, and while she reciprocated the feelings of love, her lack of willingness to speculate on their future hurt him more than he was willing to openly admit. To him, this indicated a lack of dedication to their relationship at all.

She knew what he needed, and even understood, at least a little, why he needed it, but she still felt anxious. "…if things continue…like this…I don't know that I want to be that far away from you. I missed you when I had to go home. I don't want to be locked into a new job and a new apartment in a different city."

Trying to remain stoic, he found himself unable to suppress a slight grin. "Good."

"Good? Good doesn't really help me figure this out."

"I know," he said, as he leaned down from the desk to press his lips to hers and lingered there, gently alternating kisses between her upper and lower lips.

When he pulled back she tried to follow and he turned away. He could see the worry in her face so he quickly grazed a finger along her cheek and said, "Not the best time for 'show and tell'. I don't want to flaunt our us-ness in Kate's face."

"You're right," she said, relieved to learn the reason for his hesitance.

"You said your board meeting was Friday morning, so I'm guessing by the time you cleaned out your office, it was, what…three o'clock?"

"Yea, around that time."

"So…essentially, you've been unemployed for just over 24 hours?"

"Essentially."

"Wow…talk about a slacker…I'll give it to you, you've really learned how to just go with the flow haven't you?" he asked sarcastically.

She replied, wearing an exasperated grin, "Fine…I'm insane. Just figured I have to start looking for a new job sometime."

"OK, the week we get back from our trip…we can have this conversation again, and see where we stand at that point."

"OK," she answered, sounding relatively comfortable with the arrangement.

"Think you can handle it?"

"Yea," she said, as if the answer was painfully obvious.

She stood and walked out to the bar to collect some information from various products that she needed for her reorganization of Kate's bookkeeping system. He sat on the bar, watching her fluttering about, and appreciating how appropriate it felt to have her there.

"My god, you are unbelievably sexy," he said, with a loud whisper, looking her over as if he had just noticed how attractive she was. "How did I get you again? My memory's shot, did I drug you or something?" he asked, his tone playful.

It had always been interesting to Cuddy, House's combination of haughty conceitedness and self-deprecating insecurity. Like so many things about him, this too was complicated, moments of self-aggrandizing proclamations, carefully hiding underlying doubt.

"I needed a sugar daddy, remember?"

"That's right!" he said, smiling.

The smile melted from his face when the door to the bar opened and he heard Lucy's voice, "Hey House, you seen Katie anywhere?"

House stared forward toward Cuddy, who knew it was taking every ounce of self-control he had to not unleash his anger on the unsuspecting woman.

"You drunk already?" she asked jovially.

"_Kate_," he said, emphasizing his use of her name to correct Lucy's too familiar nickname, "is downstairs, she'll be up shortly."

"I can go find her," Lucy said, happily as if everything was entirely normal.

"You can wait here," he said, louder and more emphatically than he intended.

Kate walked in before Lucy had the opportunity to question him further. Lucy was immediately by her side, talking happily about her wedding plans. Kate seemed relatively unaffected, talking with Lucy about the party later that evening, while Lucy went over her list of expectations and the menu for the evening.

Just as both House and Cuddy began to believe that Lucy would never shut up and leave, she did, heading out after hugging Kate. Lucy turned on the way out, shouting at Kate, "Thanks so much for taking care of tonight, Buddy!"

When the door closed, House began to snarl, until Kate approached him. She put a hand on his shoulder and said confidently, "I'm all better, everything's fine." Kate patted his face softly, earning a nonverbal rebuke from him, and walked back toward the kitchen.

She looked back in from the doorway, "House, stop plotting…don't get involved. I don't need your bizarre attempts at vigilantism. As far as I'm concerned, it's all forgotten."

After Kate was gone from sight, he looked at his watch, realizing there were only two hours left until people would start to arrive.

He leaned down from his position on the bar, and grabbed a shot glass, the only vessel he could reach from the spot where he was seated. He began hitting the tap quickly to get the small amount of beer to hit the glass, inevitably causing as much beer to splatter as what ended up in the glass. He repeated his actions three or four times, sipping the shots of beer and refilling, before Cuddy made a 'tsk-ing' sound and pulled the shot glass roughly from his hand, replacing it with a larger glass.

"Aww…how thoughtful," he said, smirking, "it's amazing the way you anticipate my needs."

She sneered at him and went back to her work. "You…" he said, "I'd recognize that smug swagger anywhere!"

She turned, looking astounded, "What are you talking about?"

He pointed at her, exuding the confidence of someone who had figured something out, "You…have a plan!"

Cuddy smirked at him, knowingly, "House, if Kate said _you_ should stay out of it, then I think _you_ should."

"That's why you'll always be my favorite piece of ass."

"I see you're returning to your short lived career as a greeting card writer!"

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><p><strong>AN2-**_I wanted to give "the party" it's own chapter-that's up next. Thanks for reading!_


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N-**_thanks for all readers and reviewers since the last installment: KiwiClare, IHeartHouseCuddy, Hspirito, jkarr, BIGBOSS, Little Little Greg (hee hee), JLCH, Jane Q. Doe, Alex, Abby, lenasti16, HuddyGirl, Bakerstreet Blues, dmarchl, Boo's House, CaptainK8, berenice, Mon Fogel, anon, Josam, ClareBear14_

_I love how everyone loves House being House and Cuddy being 'super Cuddy'...and people are excited for this next installment. I enjoyed writing it!_

**Disclaimer-**_ I don't own the characters of House, MD_

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><p>That night the bar was packed, the usual crowd interspersed with the members of Lucy's wedding party. Kate did seem, as promised, to be doing just fine, spending much of the time working and making sure everything was in place. Lucy and her fiancé were overly affectionate, as could be expected of a couple soon to be married, but their actions seemed to some to be a bit embellished, even under the circumstances.<p>

House worked behind the bar, a bit busier than usual, but still paying attention to everything that was going on around him, including the way Cuddy kept looking at the delicate watch on her left wrist. She was organized and precise, but never was known for being obsessed with time unless there was an appointment on the horizon or some other reason why the exact time was important.

Cuddy helped with various tasks, filling in for House and Kate as needed, but always mindful of the time, with one eye on the door. During a quieter moment, House snuck next to her, putting a hand on her lower back and chatting for a moment. They noticed Kate's calm cool exterior hiccup for the first time when she caught Lucy and her fiancé dancing provocatively directly in front of Kate's line of sight. There was only the slightest lapse in her veneer, but House and Cuddy both saw it clearly. Cuddy looked at him and he nodded a response to her silent question, flashing a look of understanding agreement before he stepped away to continue his work.

Cuddy walked behind the bar, just the slightest flirtation in her gait, grabbed Kate's hand and smiled, saying, "Come on, woman!"

Kate pulled away and whispered, "I'm fine Lisa, I promise."

"All of that talk, flirtation and flattery, and you can't dance with me one little time?" Cuddy asked, as a friendly challenge.

"Fine," Kate said, assuming she knew exactly what Cuddy was trying to accomplish.

When they reached the small open section of the floor, Cuddy wrapped her arms around Kate's neck and they began to dance. Kate said, "You don't have to, I told you I'm fine."

"I know, I wanted to dance with you."

"You're a liar."

"I am not. I did. I like you Kate, honestly, and…I think you could do far better than someone who just uses people to try to find a sense of self-worth"

"Are you going to give me the 'there's someone for everyone' speech next?" Kate asked teasingly.

"I wasn't going to, but…if there's someone for me…that seems to be pretty strong evidence that there is definitely someone for _everyone_!"

"You're good for him," Kate said, moving back enough to make eye contact. "Seriously, he almost smiled earlier, which sucks because I had that pool going, with 300 bucks on the likelihood that his face would actually crack if that ever happened, but he seems fine," she joked. "Neither of you are half as bad as you seem to think you are."

House was confused by what he saw. When he realized Cuddy wanted to dance with Kate, he had assumed she would try to put on quite a show in order to make Lucy as jealous as possible. It wasn't that they were dancing awkwardly, in fact, both seemed quite comfortable, but there certainly wasn't anything being displayed that one wouldn't see between kids at a junior high school dance. At that point, he was relatively unimpressed by Cuddy's plan, if her plan was jealousy.

Near the end of the dance, an energetic brunette walked up and asked to cut in. Kate stepped away, handing Cuddy over to the unfamiliar woman, who grabbed Kate's arm before she could escape. "Actually, I meant you," she said to Kate, flashing a startling smile.

Cuddy smiled at Kate and said, "Go ahead, I can help House for a while."

This young woman, who was dancing with Kate, this stranger with tempting full lips, bright green eyes and an aura about her that was full of life, soon had Kate's rapt attention.

Cuddy went to join House behind the bar, helping as much as she could, given that she was unfamiliar with bartending, but more than able to grab food from the kitchen or beer from a cooler. House observed the interactions between this new woman and his friend as he worked. This dance was unmistakably flirtatious, and soon had Lucy's attention.

After a few dances, Kate was still talking to the new woman, and showing unmistakable signs of interest. From a distance the pair could be seen chatting while they danced and seemed to get along exceptionally well.

Lucy was soon completely disinterested in the people that were there for her upcoming wedding. She distanced herself from her fiancé and friends and was trying to get Kate's attention. Initially she tried to cut in, first with Kate, then with the stranger, unsuccessfully. Several attempts later, under the guise of a problem with the food, Lucy successfully managed to wrestle Kate's attention away from the woman she was dancing with.

Kate parted from the stranger, offering apologies and sending her over to the bar. Cuddy stepped over to the woman, getting her a drink and chatting briefly before turning her attention to other customers.

Kate came back to the woman, much to the surprise of House, who figured the much welcomed distraction would shortly be ignored in favor of the controlling friend. In fact, not only did Kate come back over to the woman, but she chatted with her for a few minutes, checked with House to make sure he was handling the work load alright, and led the woman back onto the dance floor.

Lucy's repeated attempts to get Kate's undivided attention failed and she excused herself to use the bathroom, frustration apparent on her face, and in her body language.

* * *

><p>Lucy stepped out of the stall in the pink, black and grey tiled bathroom, which still boasted the same color scheme that it did when the bar opened in the early 1970's. She walked toward the sink to wash her hands and jumped with a start when she caught a tall, brooding figure standing at the exit. "Jesus, House! You fucking scared me," she yelled, grasping at her chest over her heart. "What is wrong with you that you're in here, you freak," she added, laughing.<p>

"Don't you hate it when people leave stuff in their pockets, and then throw their clothes in the washer?" he asked absently.

"Umm…sure"

"I'm just saying…you sometimes get all those pieces of tissue, or paper, everywhere, and it's such a pain in the ass to get all of that crap off of your clothes."

"You working on your contribution to next month's _Good Housekeeping_? Hoping to score with lonely wives with laundry issues?" Lucy asked, as she stepped in front of the hand dryer and turned it on.

House waited patiently until the loud sounds of the dryer abated. "Kate's the absolute worst with that stuff," House said, laughing and shaking his head with faux amazement. "Now, I don't do her laundry, but once in a while, if I use the washer right after her, there's still those little pieces in there, and they get all over my dark tee shirts."

"Well this has been fun, next time I need washing tips, you'll be the first person I call," Lucy answered as she tried to maneuver past him, but found herself unable with his cane blocking the door.

"Trust me you'll want to hear this," he said, smirking at her menacingly.

"Fine…please hurry, I have people waiting for me outside."

"Of course you do. Now, as I was saying, Kate leaves stuff in her pockets, all of the time. Makes me crazy. So, when Kate came home last night…she looked…unhappy. More like mortified, but I'll go with unhappy, because I wouldn't want to insult anyone, should _that_ _person_ inadvertently overhear our conversation. And I thought, what on earth could my dear pal be doing that would leave her so…disgusted?"

"I don't have to listen to this," she said, trying to push his cane out of the way, but failing.

"You really do, because, if you don't, I'll take my story out to the microphone and tell everyone all about why Kate's laundry is so important to me."

"Make it quick asshole," Lucy spat.

"It takes time to tell a story properly," he said before he continued. "Anyway, where was I? Kate…disgusted. Now, as you may or may not know, I am a nosy bastard. So, when Kate showered, I…may have accidentally snuck into her room to look through her pockets, and I may have found a receipt. A little motel, not really all that far from here…"

"Kate's personal life is none of my business. Or yours," Lucy said, attempting to sound tough over the faintest quiver in her voice.

"Technically it isn't _my_ business I guess, and it _shouldn't_ be yours, but apparently…well…I digress. I decided to call that little motel earlier today, try to catch the evening guy that works the front desk. Really friendly fellow, Melvin…or Marvin, whatever. And he…actually remembers Kate coming in there, isn't that funny?"

"Not really"

"Well, actually, the reason _why_ he remembers her is even funnier…He actually remembers this total slut who was groping Kate at the front desk while she checked in…and he even remembered the slut telling Kate to put the room on her card, because she was afraid Jeff, might see it on the credit card statement. And I said to myself, isn't that funny, that Lucy's fiancé's name is Jeff too!" House cast her a look of dramatic surprise.

"OK, well, I'm sure the words of a drugged out hotel clerk carry a lot of weight with you…"

"Melvin wasn't drugged out…he had a very clear memory…but…I thought that someone's recollection may not be enough, so just in case, I checked…do you know that almost all motels have surveillance cameras pointed at the front desk?"

Lucy stammered, her mouth opening and closing for words that wouldn't emerge.

"Well, they do. And a guy like Melvin, who's been working his whole life just trying to get by…and is currently earning just a hair over minimum wage, is unbelievably easy to convince to retrieve that tape…for a small…" House snapped his fingers in the air looking for the word he wanted, "finder's fee."

Any trace of Lucy's confidence was completely erased, her face flushed with embarrassment. "What do you want, you manipulative bastard?"

"That's funny…_you_…calling _me_ a manipulative bastard, isn't it…sort of ironic in the worst kind of way. But, good news for you, my terms are simple. I may find it in my cold black heart, to be kind enough not to mention it to Jeff…if…you stay the fuck away from Kate. She's actually having fun…with a woman who isn't the manipulative slut that I've watched string her along for years. You, avoid any more accidental hookups with Kate…forever…and trust me, I have a fantastic memory for people who've treated my friends like shit…so I mean…forever. I'd actually prefer it if you slowly fade out of her life altogether. I find you trying to slut it up with my friend, and Jeff gets the surveillance video during a special personal visit from me."

"You wouldn't…"

"I would _really_ love you to test that theory," he said, nodding and smirking. "Oh yea, and my best friend, and my woman, both think that I should stay out of this, so, let's not mention this conversation, but since you wouldn't want the things we discussed to be known, I'm guessing you were already OK with that particular clause in our agreement."

For a moment, he thought Lucy might hit him. Then he thought she just may cry. Her face turned colder than he had ever seen it before. "You win."

"That's it?" he asked.

"That's it, I'm done with her anyway," she said, her words lacking in conviction, although her reaction to the threat seemed to be convincing enough to keep her away.

House smiled, feeling pleased as he pulled his cane back, pushed the door open and gestured with an open hand for her to leave the room. He leaned over the sink, trying to wait a few minutes after Lucy left so he wouldn't be seen leaving at the same time.

Just as he was getting ready to leave, the door flew open, Kate walked in and House jumped back, concerned that Lucy had told Kate what had transpired. "Hey," Kate said giggling, "what are you doing in the ladies room? Lisa meeting you in here? Save that for the men's room!"

"She's not meeting me in here."

"OK…and you're here because…"

"The men's room…it's disgusting."

"OK, tell somebody to go clean it up then," Kate said, as her look of confusion became a smile, "So that girl I've been talking to…pretty hot huh?"

"Definitely," House responded, happy that Kate at least had a distraction.

"I don't know," Kate began, looking introspective, "I think…I kinda like her."

"Right," he answered with disbelief.

"I'm serious…I dunno…we'll see," she said as he left the bathroom.

Standing in the hallway outside of the bathroom he smiled, eyes darting back and forth. He had to find Cuddy.

The remainder of the night flew by. They were much busier than normal, and they had little time to talk. Lucy left shortly after her discussion with House, although he knew it was more because of her irritation at seeing Kate distracted by another woman than it was about anything he had said.

After Lucy left, Kate brought the new woman up to the bar to sit down while she returned to work for a while. Pleased that Lucy was out of the picture for the moment House sent Kate away with the new prospect, promising to finish closing up as long as Kate left her car for he and Cuddy to take home.

As they were finishing up, House pulled Cuddy over to a bar stool and hiked her up onto it. "OK," he said, "very nicely done!"

"What?" she asked with practiced naivety.

"You…dancing with Kate…wasn't about making Lucy jealous."

"No. It wasn't"

"Your own kiss of betrayal…signalling to your accomplice who the victim was in your scheme"

"Victim?"

"That's who you were on the phone with…the concerned friend…you were setting this up. You…played matchmaker!"

"Maybe. Although, I didn't lie, she had left me several messages, and she was concerned. Lucy already knew about you and I, so I figured she's see through any attempts by me to make her jealous. Plus, I kind of figured Elena, my friend, might be Kate's type and vice versa…and sort of hoped maybe the introduction could be more than just a way to get back at Lucy."

"Nice. Your scheming actually seems to have worked well. I mean, who knows if Kate will actually ever settle down, but, it definitely worked for tonight."

"Thank you," she said grinning with victory.

They kissed for a few moments until they heard the clattering in the kitchen, reminding them that there were still other people in the building working.

"Oh…" she added, "What did you tell Lucy?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I know you followed her into the bathroom…what did you say…and did you make her cry? For once…I _really_ hope you made someone cry."

"No actual crying, but she was so close…" he reported. "I just happened to tell her that I located some evidence of her tryst."

"You have evidence?"

"I said…_I told her_ that I found evidence…I didn't say I actually had it."

She smirked, "OK, so you led her to believe…"

"Possibly. I figured out where they went when I snooped through Kate's clothes, I called the motel, talked to the guy on duty, who did remember them…but, when I asked for the surveillance tape…he said something about stalking and told me he'd call the cops if I ever called him again."

"Well, not exactly staying out of it, but impressive nonetheless."

"You too, I'm sort of impressed that you actually found someone Kate would like."

"Please, you guys are so easy. She likes what you like, except a bit more...friendly and sweet"

"True," he said. "You know, you and I...we're pretty clever. Maybe we should forget about finding traditional jobs and consider lives of crime…or we…could be pirates."

"I'm still a big fan of plumbing, showers, clean clothes and mattresses…so I think the pirating is out."

"We could be high class pirates, operating off of our luxury yacht."

She thought for a moment, "Then yea, definitely, I'll do it.

As they were locking up she said retrospectively, "Doesn't it feel like it's been years since I walked through that door to see you…or at least…to spy on you?"

"Yea," he said nodding.

"The day before I came here, I had no idea I'd ever see you again. One phone call, one drive, and everything changed. I certainly never would have expected all of this."

* * *

><p>When they arrived back home, it was obvious Kate was already there.<p>

He stared at the door momentarily. "Want to go somewhere?"

"Sure, tomorrow. I'm too tired tonight. Masterminding revenge is exhausting!" she answered. "Actually, if it's OK with you, I'd like to drive up to Baltimore, get some clothes, I thought maybe I could stay with you for the week, even though you'd have to work."

"I love that you had no problem ordering me around for years but you're still tentative about asking to stay at my place."

"That's personal"

"I know. Yea, sounds good. Let's go in and see what sort of bizarre ancient rituals my roomie's involved in...just so you know, I'm not responsible for anything we may find in there."

They walked in and found the last thing they expected. Seated in the kitchen, Kate and Elena sat around a table filled with carryout containers, talking animatedly, obviously enjoying their time together, still fully dressed in the clothing they were wearing earlier. House and Cuddy walked through the living room as quietly as they could, trying not to interrupt.

Just as House was about to close his door, Kate was standing there, "I don't know what in the hell you said…" Kate began before House interrupted.

"I didn't say anything," he said, claiming innocence.

"Bullshit!" Kate responded sternly, "…and…thank you. And you!" she pointed at Cuddy, "I expected this from him but not you!"

"I had nothing to do with whatever House was up to," Cuddy answered.

"I know…" Kate said, pulling Cuddy into a hug, "I'm thanking you for the setup…nice choice!"

"I wouldn't…"

"OH please, I'm not mad. I'm a little insulted that you both think I'm that stupid, but I'm not mad. Thanks again guys!" Kate said cheerily as she left the room.

"We need dumber friends," House said when they eventually climbed into bed, satisfied with the success of their meddling.


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N-**_thank you so much to all of the people still tolerating my ramblings, and those of you who are even nice enough to write stuff about them after tolerating them :)_

_ Boo's House, JLCH, housebound, newsession, BIGBOSS, IHeartHouseCuddy, putzvidal, No So Little Greg (I tremble!), dmarchl (Kate's pretty clever too!), Kashtien James (13…woulda been fun!), Abby, Alex (long live shuffle board wagers), HuddyGirl, Josam (Glad to make you smiley), ClareBear14 (you liked 13 for that spot too, huh…woulda been pretty cool), lenasti16 (hey woman!), phyna (yes, he can be kinda cute, but I won't tell him that)_

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD_

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><p>When House woke in the morning he felt around for Cuddy, who was already out of bed. His thigh burned much worse than it had in quite some time and he felt particularly frustrated with it that morning, wanting to get up without hindrance and go find out what his far more able bodied girlfriend was doing.<p>

He decided on a hot shower rather than a bath, hoping to catch up with her to spend the day together before his return to work at the hospital Monday morning. When he got out of the shower, he smiled when he found Cuddy laying naked face down in the bed. "You should wait for me like that every morning," he suggested.

When she didn't answer, he walked over to her and put a hand down onto the bed to balance his weight as he leaned over to look at her face. He retracted his hand quickly when he found it covered in thick, warm fluid. He looked at his hand, startled by the sensation, to find it covered in blood, the too familiar and sickly taste of iron and humanity filling his mouth and nose. He turned her over as quickly as he could to look for the problem and found nothing obvious, no open wounds, just a steady trickle of blood from her nose and mouth. He knew she was bleeding far too much, far too quickly. He felt for a pulse, and found a faint one, calling her name repeatedly.

He grabbed his phone off of the bedside table, and punched 911, leaving a tacky trail of rapidly drying blood on the screen of his phone. He called for an ambulance, his voice shaking as he reported his observations to the dispatcher.

He was at her side, holding her hand and talking to her softly. He tried desperately to remember his training, to figure out what he could do to help her hold on until the needed equipment arrived. His fingers fumbled at her neck to find her pulse and felt it growing weaker as he wondered where the ambulance was and why he couldn't seem to do anything to help her.

He felt his stomach clench as his anxiety grew and he wished any of his medical training felt accessible to him at that moment.

Everything was slipping through his fingers. Everything that he had secretly hoped for, and finally, after half a century of searching, seemed to have found, would soon be gone.

He heard the front door open, grasping at their last few seconds alone before the flurry of activity. "I love you…so…fucking much…" he whispered next to her ear before the paramedics pulled him back to begin working on her.

"It might be too late," one of the paramedics declared evenly as House's world went black.

He woke lying in the bed and was surprised to see the sheets on the bed were clean and crisp. "You gonna sleep the day away, boy?" he heard a familiar voice bark, as he opened his eyes to see his dad at the end of the bed. "Such a damn slackass."

"I've been doing better lately."

"We'll see," he scoffed, "The true strength of a man isn't known until it's tested."

* * *

><p>With that House jerked awake, his body shaking to alertness almost violently as he looked around to assess what was dream and what was reality. The sheets were crinkled and used, the pillow where Cuddy's head rested earlier, still indented from the weight of her. He pulled the sheets down to verify there were no traces of blood.<p>

His eyes burned, tears lining the lids. His stomach still clenched and ached, and he thought that, even with the relief of coming to his wakened state, he still could have vomited if there had been any food in his stomach. He limped to the bathroom, and found it empty, feeling the need to see Cuddy alive and breathing with his own eyes. He looked out toward the kitchen and didn't see her there either.

When he rounded the sofa he found her prone on the floor. "Oh no, no, no…" he thought, his mind racing as he went to her side, dropped down painfully onto the floor, and leaned over her body.

"You remember the rule, not while I'm meditating, you jerk," she squealed, as she tickled along his ribs. He practically collapsed on her, both from relief and from the feeling of her tickling him.

"Sorry," he murmured as he tried to pull away.

"Oh no," she laughed, sitting up and pulling him back onto her. "You interrupted me, now you have to pay the price!"

He held her face between his hands, his weight on his elbows and studied her intently. Her face was positively breathtaking, her lips upturned in a wide grin, cheeks full and red from laughter, and when she finally opened her eyes, the blue-grey light gleamed.

The happy expression left her face when she saw his look of concern, "Are you OK? What happened? I…thought you were just playing around," she asked.

He pulled himself back, used the sofa to pick himself up off of the ground and staggered out of the living room, through the bedroom and into the bathroom. He was naked and standing in the shower in seconds, trying to wash away the feelings he just had, trying to rinse away the insecurity and the panic.

He hated this power she had over him, the way one person held so much influence over whether he experienced joy or pain. Soul crushing pain. He remembered the sickening feeling he felt at the thought of losing her before, and experience and familiarity didn't make the sensation any easier to handle. In fact, he knew he was far more attached to her now, since he allowed more of his vulnerabilities to show than he had in the past.

He was only in the shower a minute or two when she bound into the bathroom and flung the curtain open. "What. Is going. On?" she demanded.

House faced directly into the shower stream, leaning against the wall with one hand holding him upright, unmoving and without acknowledging her in any way. She tugged at his free arm just above the elbow hoping for some reaction, "Hey?"

When she didn't get a response, she stepped into the shower, into the narrow space between his body and the wall, still fully clothed.

"Please…" she asked, nearly pleading.

He was already leaning down against his hand, so he didn't have to move very far to kiss her, trying to feel her alive and breathing against him. He didn't have to open his eyes, or hold her face to know exactly where she was and their lips met. Mouths open, tongues exploring, dancing, not aggressively, but in an attempt to merge as closely as possible, their breaths becoming entirely symbiotic. She gasped into his mouth, thrilled to have a reaction that wasn't angry or dismissive but concerned about the underlying cause of his mood.

Her clothes were still on her body, her shirt hanging heavily from her shoulders, pants slick and tight against her. His free hand, which had been hanging at his side moved to the narrowness of her waist and continued up to her rib cage. He pulled her close, his arm hooked under hers and forcefully brought her against him, her now drenched clothes spewing and sloshing water against his bare skin.

She traced her fingers along his neck, one hand cupping his cheek and chin, "Love, please…"

His attention snapped to the present at her use of a term of endearment, something they rarely utilized toward each other in ways that weren't teasing or sarcastic. Her tone, the use of the word and her insistent presence, that complete refusal to leave him alone in his misery, finally stopped the seizing he was feeling internally.

She said, her voice tense with worry, "Tell me. I need you to tell me."

She placed quick needy kisses against his lips, trying, with that gesture alone, to demonstrate the depths of her feelings for him.

"I need you," he said, almost inaudibly.

Her shoulders dropped a bit, as she assumed he would do what he had so often done before, translate the feelings and insecurity into sex, but in that moment she desperately wanted to hear his words. "OK," she said, kissing him quickly as she lifted the heavy shirt off of her body and peeled away the pants, socks and underwear. Each item slapped heavily down against the fiberglass basin of the shower floor.

He shook his head, "Need _you_."

He pulled her body to him, her skin warming against his. "Oh," she said, taken aback, "I need you too…really."

"I've always been more willing to get lost in you than you were with me."

"That's not true."

"It is. Even when you think it wasn't, I was just trying to hide how much I felt that way."

"I was hesitant before, but I'm not anymore. I trusted you with everything, and I know, if you wanted to, you could have easily destroyed me then. I have no more barriers with you…with…being with you. Except maybe that…I don't want you to see me as too needy…as weak."

"Never," he said, with profound honesty. "You're gonna leave, or you're gonna die," he said with a defeated sigh.

"I told you I'm not leaving. You'll have to get rid of me if you want to move on. But yea, some day, I will die. And if you are still alive…you _will be_ OK."

"No I won't. The thought nearly destroyed me years ago. It still would today."

"Why are you even thinking about me dying?"

He thought of at least five lies, or deflections, or non-answers, and settled, to his own amazement, on the truth. "Dream. History. The past has demonstrated how well I deal with losing you…"

"Yes…in the past. We…are not repeating the past. I'm not dying…not soon. And neither are you. Please don't throw this away because you want to avoid being hurt later. You are doing so well. I am doing so well. Neither of us are shut down, and our walls…nothing like they used to be."

"What about when something bad happens?"

"At some point, yes, something bad will probably happen to us…to everyone. And you'll see…then you will see exactly how strong you really are. One way or another, I'll be there with you."

Thoughts flowed through his head in disorganized waves, thoughts he couldn't seem to articulate, and if he could, he wasn't sure if he'd really be willing to vocalize them.

He wanted the doubt to end. He wanted to have this puzzle solved, to know how the mystery of them would turn out in the end. Was it possible for him to go to sleep one night as a much older man and slip into death peacefully? Was it possible that following that death, she would be devastated and full of sorrow over the loss of him? Could someone, someone as important as she had always been to him, actually mourn over him?

He desperately hoped that if there were to be a death, that it would be his own, not hers, and he could haunt and torment her until her own death. He was certain that he didn't believe in things like spirits, but felt that after all of the obstacles they'd overcome to be with each other, repeatedly and against all odds finding each other again, that he would be the one to devise a way to posthumously remain present.

She looked up at him with a look so bathed in love that it hurt him. It hurt them both. He thought of telling her that he wanted to disappear into her forever. He wanted them to slip away, not just for a vacation, he wanted them to be in a place where the outside forces that always seemed to plague them could no longer reach.

"I love you…so fucking much…" he finally admitted, remembering how desperately he told her that in his dream, and wanting to make sure that she heard it now that he knew she was alive. His gazed dropped down, feeling completely exhausted after only being awake a few minutes and hoping that the full breadth of his feelings could be conveyed in words so overused.

Her face was tinged with concern and sadness, wishing she could help him to stop feeling these doubts and insecurities. "I love you…so fucking much...too," she smiled, although her eyes were still heavy with the dual emotions of love and sorrow.

She pulled him from the shower, handing him a towel to dry off with, leaving her heavy water-logged garments in the bottom of the tub to deal with later, and leading him to their bed. They had sex simply because they didn't know what else to do with all of their feelings. An act mandated by their need to feel closeness and unity. They didn't know how to find a way to be close enough, how to mend the aches and pains of two people with overly tormented pasts. They gripped at each other tightly, each hoping they would never have to leave the moment. He left faint bruises across her hip from the force of his grip, she clawed at the skin of his back, marking each other in their own ways, from the sheer strength of their desire to claim permanence in their connection; to force their will on destiny and make themselves active participants in determining their fate.

When they finally came to rest, they remained close, still clinging to each other. "I think I've always needed you more than you needed me," she said, the words falling from her mouth in the moment of relaxation brought on by the flood of endorphins and emotion.

"How do you figure that?" he said, his mind hazy.

"Why do you think I protected you, hired you, kept around? "

"Big fat donations thanks to my brilliance?"

"Sure that helped. But, whenever I thought of you leaving, I was always ready to do whatever I needed to do to keep you. I wasn't sure I could function without our dysfunction."

They rested quietly for a few moments and she sat up, looking at him with a look of the utmost seriousness, "And you know what? You deserve to fear me dying once or twice because you did that to me for years. Time after time, getting shot, accidents, electrocutions, insulin shock, overdoses, you _OWE_ me a few moments of worry. My god the number of times I had to fathom your death, once or twice forcing you to worry about me, seems a bit like poetic justice, doesn't it?" She smiled at him then, so he knew the words were said with love.

Her statement, although loving and said in a spirit of fun, was meant to convey to him just how hard it had been for her, worrying about him all those years during his self-destruction, letting him know someone feared his death as well.

He gave the thought some consideration, "Well, it's a bit late to teach me that lesson, isn't it."

"Let's agree to consider it learned. On both of our parts."

"Tell that to my dreams," he said somberly.


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N**-_thanks to all readers and the reviewers since last time:_ _JLCH, housebound, Josam, Kirey, TheHouseWitch, Suzieqlondon, dmarchl, IHeartHouseCuddy, Boo's House, byte size, BETEDELSTEIN, HuddyGirl, Irina, Alex, Mon Fogel, ClareBear14, lenasti16, jbully, newdayz, bonneiyy77, RedTulipAna, touchatoucha7, JamHuddyFan, Jane Q. Doe._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter contains mild adult content (it's too limited to "block out" if you don't like, skip the beginning to the first line break)_

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><p>After his dream and the deeper connections they had made, the sheer vulnerability he had shown, there was no mistaking the depths of their feelings. They had wasted so many years on avoidance: trying to protect her from him, trying to protect him from her, preserving their working relationship, preserving the once tentative terms that kept them present in each other's lives.<p>

He tried to think of the words, the phrase, even a series of phrases that he could say to communicate his feelings, and there was nothing that even came close. 'Love' seemed insufficient and overused. 'Adoration' seemed far too spiritual, 'affection' too fraternal, 'devotion' too chaste, 'passion' too physical. Rolling onto her as she was beginning to fall asleep, he began his exploration of the soft skin that was stretched across her ribs, dipping deeply down until pulled up again at her hips. He realized that even this act, the two of them communicating with near perfection, each trying to ensure the other's pleasure and silently share their deepest thoughts, might not be enough to express his feelings.

Just as he slowed while these thoughts worked through his head, her arm curved around his neck, pulling him upward just far enough to reach her breast. He pulled a nipple in his mouth, rolling the other between his fingers. With great relief he felt the comfort of her bringing him to arousal again, his body twitching to life against her. The sound of a small encouraging moan from deep within her chest provoked a reaction from him that gave him the confidence that his body would again help him compensate for his overwhelmed mind. Some days his body failed him miserably, yet it faithfully responded to her as if it had no choice but to heed her requests.

"We can take a break," she said, her words betrayed by her hands that held his face to her breast and her leg that looped over his hip as she groaned.

His only answer was the drifting of his hand to her hip, his long fingers wrapping around the protruding bone and roughly pulling her toward him. She moved subtly away from his grasp when his fingers wrapped around her, the hip bruised and sore from their earlier union. He released her immediately, looked down at her hip and saw the redness that would precede the bruise. He loved holding her there, feeling the graceful way she would twist and pivot to facilitate their connection. He'd anticipate the moment when her rhythmic pulses against him would snag a few times until they'd move more forcefully as she'd approach release.

"I didn't know…" he looked and sounded concerned, as if somehow he had proven that he was abusive and cruel in a moment meant to be expressive and passionate.

She pulled him back to her, taking his hand in hers and placing it back on her hip just centimeters away from where it was previously. "I'm not that breakable," she spoke into his mouth as she kissed him again, bringing him back into the moment where she needed him.

She heard his breath hitch as he slid his hand behind her hip to grasp her ass cheek in his hand and pull her against him tightly. "You'd tell me?" he mumbled, trying to stay focused when his body was begging to take possession of her. "You'd tell me if I hurt you…if you wanted me to stop?"

She nodded as she took his other hand and moved it down her side so he could use both to hold her firmly against him. Initially, another round wasn't what she wanted, surprised at the strength and consistency of his appetite, and more surprised that his aging body could keep up. She was an addict, that tiny taste of him against her and her cravings were as intense and undeniable as always.

He could feel her soft wetness beckoning him, and his patience was already wearing thin. Hovering over her, testing her to see if she was ready yet again, he felt his leg begin to seize with tension and knew this perfect moment was going to slip away, and he'd be gripped by frustrations both physical and emotional.

She had a look of gentle understanding for the briefest second, knowing that his feelings of inadequacy always lingered beneath the surface, and pushed him over onto his back. She could see the frustration in his expression, so she leaned forward speaking softly against his ear, "I can't believe the way you make me feel," she said as she pulled his hands up to her hips again and writhed perfectly over him.

He was almost immediately distracted by her need and desire. Being open had so many painful qualities, but it also had its merits. She knew what he needed, and met that need without making him feel inadequate or useless. When he was finally buried in her, they mutually sighed with the pleasured relief that a physical connection alone brought them, even prior to release. The process of reaching gratification gave them the opportunity of communication, each trying to stave off completion until their bodies would no longer allow, so they could avoid the moment when they'd be left with their words once again.

* * *

><p>House woke from a catnap when he heard Cuddy's stomach growling in his ear. After the emotional intensity of the early morning, they'd barely been out of bed.<p>

She definitely would have been asleep, except that she was so ravenously hungry it was uncomfortable. He was finally resting peacefully. He was attentive and passionate, as he always was during sex, but his eyes were tired, the weariness of the emotional stress visible in his expression. There was no banter or teasing, as there was so often, but their connection was ardent and genuine.

After their last session she flopped down onto the bed, and he rolled back onto her, resting his head on her stomach and falling deeply into sleep, his hands each resting against her ribs. Within seconds he was snoring softly. After all of the tension and unrest, she decided to allow him some peace. There was no way for her to pull away from him without waking him.

After some time, she felt him shake with a tiny chuckle. "If you're that hungry why didn't you get up?" he asked, his speech altered by the way his face was smashed against her.

"You were sleeping."

"Apparently your stomach is threatening to feast on surrounding organs, so you may want to feed it," he said as he pushed himself up to a seated position to allow her to get up.

Her stomach loudly protested its neglect and he smirked, poking at it lightly with his index finger. She pulled herself out of bed, putting on one of his shirts and walking toward the door when she noticed a distinct lack of movement from the bed. He was sprawled out, arms folded behind his head. "Your leg?" she asked.

"Fine."

"You coming?"

He shrugged and closed his eyes.

"Oh please," she said astounded, "you have a snack before you snack, I'm sure you're starving!"

She picked up his pajama pants from the floor and tossed them at him. He was slow to get up, scooting along the bed to a seated position.

The difference in his mood in the space of less than 24 hours was astounding. The night before, he was so vibrant, full of his usual bravado and intelligence, his quest for justice for his friend highlighting so many of the things she found attractive in him. Only hours later, he was quiet and thoughtful. She watched him, her head tilted to one side contemplatively.

Part of her still anticipated him lashing out angrily when hurt, but those moments seemed more like brief bursts of emotion that he still had, but they the vitriol and durability of earlier years. She could see again what he had told her so many times: he was tired. She was surprised by how much his vulnerability impacted her. She felt fiercely protective of him sitting there, wanting desperately to bring a smile back to his face and sooth the doubts that were probably lingering in the quiet.

She pulled his legs off to the side of the bed as he watched her. First lifting the pajamas that were bunched up at his waist, she started to help him put them on until he swatted her hands away. "I can do it myself mommy," he said, his initial irritation replaced with mild amusement as he pulled the pants over his legs.

He winced as he lifted off the bed enough to pull the pants up the rest of the way and dropped back down. She sat next to him, pulled his arm over her shoulders and stood, trying to help him stand as well. With their height difference, and the height of the bed, when she stood up completely, he was still seated, and smirked at her attempts to pull him up.

"You could help, asshole," she said with a soft giggle.

One corner of his mouth finally showed signs of a grin and he made eye contact but didn't move from his spot.

"I'm sure after this morning it really hurts," she nodded toward his leg, lifting an eyebrow before becoming serious again. "What can I do to…"

"Lap dance," he interrupted without hesitation.

She smirked, knowing that he was trying to make his mood appear lighter, "What can I do to help your_ leg_?

"Ummm…same answer," he smiled and took his arm off of her shoulders and stood up. "I don't need help."

"Didn't say you _needed_ help," she said as she walked out toward the kitchen.

He trudged out to the kitchen slowly behind her, unwilling to admit how taxed both his body and mind were. Replaying his dream repeatedly in his head, there was one element that seemed strangely out of place. He understood his dad's place in his dream: his fears of failing as a human, his concerns that he hadn't really changed at all and that he would, at some critical moment, fail her. He understood his fear of Cuddy unexpectedly dying and assumed there was no hidden meaning in that portion of the dream.

While her descent into death was clearly the most disturbing part of the dream, the part that seemed most unexplained was his inability in the dream to react. Arguably one of the greatest doctors in recent history could barely find a pulse. In his dream he clearly couldn't have done anything to save her, in fact, he could barely even fathom possible causes for her symptoms.

"Hey!" he flinched when she hollered at him. "Are you listening?"

"Nope," he answered calmly.

"Do you want swiss? On your sandwich?"

"I do actually need your help with something," he answered, ignoring her question.

"We're waiting at least a couple of hours if this is something sexual…"

"This week, while I'm working, could you do some paperwork for me?"

She stopped slathering mustard over the bread and lowered the knife she was using to the countertop before brushing the crumbs off of her hands over the sink. "OK. What for?"

"I want my license back"

"Really?" she said, grinning before her eyes narrowed to a scowl, "is this some sort of joke?"

"Nope. I'm ready, I want it back."

"Oh, OK," she said without any other reaction.

He knew what would inevitably follow and watched patiently while she placed cheese down on the mustard, her hands precise and delicate with the slightest little flair of her pinky just as she pulled away. Then he could see her shoulders and elbows rocking, almost indiscernibly, in a subtle show of excitement.

"You're dancing," he accused.

"I am not!"

"You are."

"It's up to you whether or not you get your license, I'm not pressuring you."

"I know," he said as he sauntered over, index finger pointed at her, "Doesn't mean you aren't happy about it."

She huffed her disagreement, facing forward, adamantly shaking her head, and then abruptly ceased all movement. She lowered her wrists to the counter and with deliberate measure looked at him, "Maybe." She breathed for a moment, trying to control her expression. "Perhaps I'm a _tiny_ bit happy about it."

She went back to dutifully making sandwiches. He leaned down facing her on the counter, propped on his elbows, "You know, I can hear the voices in your head from over here. I figured we'd need the extra money, now that I have to take care of you, since _you_ have no gainful employment..."

She smirked and interrupted, "So, I need to brush up, I haven't had to deal with reinstatement since…well…since…you, so I'm not sure what you need to do anymore. I'll make some phone calls."

"Renewal," he stated.

"Renewal?"

"Yea. It doesn't need reinstated, it needs renewed. Which should be remarkably simpler."

She looked at him questioningly until he continued. "it wasn't revoked or suspended. I just didn't renew when it expired."

"You don't have a license because you didn't bother to mail in your renewal? You're kidding."

"Mmmm…not that funny! So, from what I understand from my conversation with Altland on Friday, I just need to fill out some paperwork, and probably do the whole background check, fingerprinting thing. Maybe speak to the licensing board if there's an issue. I was surprised how eager he was to assist me, until I realized that he probably knows if I get my license back I'll leave his department. In fact, he's willing to give me a character reference just in case I need one. He's going to vouch for the fact that I've been a fine, upstanding, hard-working citizen," House said, with a innocent look that seemed light years out of place and his hands folded angelically in front of him. "Since he hates me, I find it very hard to believe he's doing that out of the kindness of his heart."

"You talked to Altland about this?"

He nodded, "Just in case. I was curious."

"You…probably just earned yourself that lap dance."

"Yess…" he hissed playfully.

"But…"

"NO! NO 'but'! Why do you always say something that cool, and then follow it with 'but'?"

"Lap dances aren't _that_ fun."

"They really are. Let me get a speedo I'll show you."

She covered her mouth, laughing at the thought. "Wouldn't you rather just have sex? That seems to me to be more fun than teasing."

"No…you and I spent decades in a proverbial lap dance. I enjoy the tension. And what I really want, is a fantastic fucking lap dance, _followed_ by sex."

"And as I was saying, that can be arranged, 'but'…I need to go home, pick up some more clothes. So maybe you can ride up with me?"

"Ride up? On my bike?"

"You have a motorcycle?"

"No, but I figured you'd want to go get me one…as another reward."

"No," she shook her head admonishingly.

They ate and got dressed for their drive to Baltimore. They were quieter in the car. House still looked as if he had been to hell and back, because mentally he had been, but the day seemed to be turning out alright. His mood though still contemplative and somewhat fatigued, never became sullen or brooding.

As they neared the exit on the highway that would take them to her home, he asked, "What are you thinking about?"

He was concerned that returning home, her thoughts would again turn darker, as memories of Rachel reemerged.

"You asking me?"

"No, I'm asking them," he said sarcastically, pointing into the back seat. "Yea I'm asking you."

"I was actually thinking that it's hard to regret anything that's happened between us. There's so much stuff. Too much some people would say. If not for our experiences…It's almost like we had to be given time to spin our wheels, indulge in insanity and continue be pummeled by life before we could find any peace…or each other."

"Are you excusing my behavior, or yours?"

"Neither. I'm just saying that despite the dysfunction and in the face of an awful lot of tragedy, that maybe we were able to pull something positive from it…What in the hell is that?" she asked, pointing forward out the windshield toward her house, where there were two police cruisers with flashing lights.

Concerned and filled with anxiety, she pulled up to the officer standing at the end of her driveway waving her on. She rolled down her window as he said, "Move along please, there's an investigation going on here."

"Investigation of what?"

"I'm afraid I can't say, please move along."

"It's my house!"

"Are you Lisa Cuddy?" the officer said, leaning down to her eyelevel and looking over her and House.

"Yes!"

"Pull into the driveway ma'am, we're gonna need you to step inside."

They could hear someone from inside of the garage, "Arrest him, that's the guy. That's the bastard that attacked my sister!"


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N-** _Thank you so much to all readers, and the reviewers since the last update: Asia, IHeartHouseCuddy, JLCH, jbully, berenice, Belle-Cuddy, LiaHuddy, Mon Fogel, Josam, ClareBear14, limptulip, patientslie, Not So Little Greg, Alex, grouchysnarky, HuddyGirl, huddyholic_

_Sorry I didn't have time to respond to any of you, I was really busy, and after threats of physical violence, I thought I should try to get this update out quickly :)  
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**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

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><p>"He didn't attack me," Cuddy said, exasperated, as she got out of the car, "stop being so melodramatic."<p>

"He did attack you, I was there, remember? I don't have an infuriatingly short memory for Greg House's transgressions!"

The cop looked at Cuddy for elaboration, "No one attacked me. My sister is rehashing the past."

"Ma'am," the cop said, "Your sister reported you missing, told us she feared you were kidnapped, I'm assuming, by the gentleman in your car."

She walked around to the passenger's side of the car, where Julia was already leading the cop over to make an arrest. Placing her hands up to ward off the approaching angry sister, Cuddy looked at the cop and said, "No one kidnapped me, I'm fine."

"If anything, she kidnapped me," House added from the car, receiving a well-earned scowl from Cuddy.

The cop looked back and forth, trying to decide if House was being serious. When motioned by the cop, he got out of the car, "I wasn't kidnapped, all of that bondage was strictly consensual."

"Still the same huh, House?" Julia asked, obviously frustrated with him in a manner of seconds. "Jail apparently offered you all of the _rehabilitation_ you needed. A new man, our tax dollars hard at work."

"Still the decidedly less intelligent, less attractive version of your sister, huh Julia?" he answered, unable to resist falling into the petty argument.

"Shut up, both of you," Cuddy said, "let's not drag the cops into this stupid argument. Everyone's fine. I'm fine, he's fine, no one was kidnapped. We'll clear this up, get the cops off of my lawn and discuss this in private."

"Missed you, sis," House sneered at Julia as he walked past her to follow Cuddy into the kitchen.

"Officer," Cuddy said to the person in charge, "I'm Lisa Cuddy, can you please explain to me what's going on here?"

"Ma'am your sister came here to check on you. Apparently you unexpectedly resigned from your job on Friday, and no one has spoken to you since. Your sister spoke to some of your former employees and ex-boyfriend who explained that you may have been associating with someone who was a threat to you. After both your sister and mother placed numerous calls to you without a response, your sister came here to your residence and found evidence of an altercation."

"Altercation?"

"Broken glass in the kitchen ma'am."

"You didn't clean that up?" House asked, both impressed and confused, standing close enough to Cuddy to make her sister uncomfortable.

"Well I couldn't clean it up while you were here. Would have ruined the point!" she said obstinately.

"I really like that proving a point to me is more important than your need for control and order. I think our _therapy _sessions are working," he said with a lecherous grin. "However, you were here last week without me."

"For a few minutes, I was never in the kitchen, I…was distracted, forgot about it."

"Slob!" House accused teasingly.

"Ma'am, if I may. Let's take a few moments and verify that you are indeed Dr. Cuddy. If so, we can get this cleared up and allow you to work matters out with your family."

"At the _very_ least, he's in violation of a restraining order," Julia insisted.

"No…he's not," Cuddy said calmly.

"I was in there too, technically I was a victim as well!"

"Everyone knows I never would have sacrificed my fine automobile for you, it was clearly a…"

"Stop," Cuddy insistently interrupted.

Gathering her composure and mustering a smile, she turned her attention to the cop. After a few explanations and some paperwork, Cuddy walked the remaining cop out of her home, and House and Julia sat scowling at each other across the table in the kitchen. The moment Cuddy walked in, Julia said, "Do you want to tell me how he's _not _in violation of a restraining order?"

"I had that dissolved a long time ago, he wasn't trying to find me, he never made a single attempt to get near me."

"So, you premeditated bumping into him? You had it dissolved just in case he wanted to find you later? Maybe you thought that at some point you'd want to swing by and see him, go for tapas? Whether or not he was _trying_ to find you, he obviously did."

"Because _I_ found _him._"

"You're sick, Lisa! That is so unhealthy, you know that. You need some serious counseling."

"Ya know what…" House began, leaning forward until Cuddy cut in.

"I've got this…" she said calmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"So, you guys are actually…a…couple…again?" Julia asked with alarm.

"Yes…" Cuddy began.

"You need to step back from the situation and assess what you are really doing here. Everything that happened with Rachel has seriously screwed you up. You spend months ignoring us, ignoring your family, and you've had him all along?"

"I went and found him a few weeks ago, right before I left for vacation."

"Why didn't you tell us you were seeing him again?" Julia asked.

"That's actually a remarkably good question!" House asked, looking up at her from his seat at the table.

"Tell _your_ mom yet, House?" Cuddy quickly responded.

He scowled at her for a moment, then allowed his eyes to dart back and forth and said, "Good point."

"Gonna beat her with your cane?" Julia muttered.

"You're gonna have to back off, and let me make my own decisions," Cuddy said diplomatically. "I know what's going on here…you don't. He has been really amazing."

Julia just shook her head, "Well, I guess at least Mom will be OK with it, which is a good thing,_ if_ you think it's a good idea to take our mother's dating advice."

"I guess, at least for once, Mom actually wants me to be happy."

"What kind of mother hopes for the guy who ruined her daughter's life?" Julia asked angrily.

"I guess…one who knows that her daughter is a seriously messed up person as well," Cuddy said coolly. Her calm evaporated as a look of realization crossed her face, "Mom doesn't know you called the cops does she?"

"Of course she does. She's on her way."

"Call her right fucking now, Julia. I'm not dealing with Mom today. You call and tell her I'm fine."

"No…_you_ call her. You're the one that couldn't answer your damn phone. This whole thing could have been avoided if you just answered one of us like a responsible adult."

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he asked, perplexed.

"I wasn't in the mood for talking. Ask me later," she whispered at him angrily. "I'm gonna go call Mom before she's here and I go completely insane."

She dialed the number and with the first ring, she heard the doorbell. "Oh god," she and House said in unison as they looked at the door.

"I'll get it," he said, "let's get this over with."

He opened the door just as Cuddy heard her mother pick up on the other end of the phone and House said to the opening door, "Miss me?"

At that moment, Cuddy realized her mother was on the phone, not at the door, and House was face to face to with Matthew. Cuddy's thought's scattered, torn between dealing with her mother on the phone and preventing the catastrophe waiting to happen that was Matthew and House left alone to talk. "Mom, it's Lisa, I'm fine, but I have to go. Don't drive the whole way down here I'm leaving soon anyway."

"What in _the_ hell is going on Lisa? What sort of complete insanity are you mixed up with now?"

"I promise, I'll call you later, I gotta go." She hung up, listening to her mother's fading protests from the phone as the call ended, and walked over to the front door.

"Your sister called me, I informed her that I saw you…that you were acting…irrationally. Associating with…people," Matthew said, looking House over. "Not really what I expected," he said, waiting for a reaction from House.

"Seriously?" House asked Cuddy, completely ignoring Matthew's comments. He smiled confidently and extended a hand to shake, "Greg House!"

"This is what all of the fuss is about Lisa? I think it's high time you step away from this situation and allow professionals to help you. You need to heal instead of seeking out more chaos and pain," Matthew calmly said.

Just as she was about to respond, she heard the most terrifying voice, the words it spoke becoming clearer as the owner grew closer. "Matthew, this is becoming just a little ridiculous, isn't it? There's something to be said for taking rejection with a little grace." Cuddy was standing in the middle of a discussion with House, Matthew, and…her mother.

"I asked you not to come," Cuddy said in a voice dangerously close to a whine.

"I know, dear. Which only made me more curious. And I was almost here anyway." Arlene stood directly between Matthew and the door. "Was I too subtle?" she asked Matthew, who looked at her for more information. "I'm sorry Julia has involved you in this again, but it's going to start getting pret-ty embarrassing if we have to ask you more directly to leave."

Matthew looked at Cuddy and caught sight of House's smug grin while he tried to come up with anything at all to say. The old lady looked at him expectantly and nodded him away. He backed away and retreated down the walkway, uncertain what else he could do. Arlene rolled her eyes as she turned away from Matthew and directed her attention to House.

"I'm not going to pretend I'm surprised to see you," she said, as she pushed past House into the living room. "The really pesky ones _always_ come back. You hurt her. I told you if you did that, I'd kill you. Why shouldn't I?"

She prepared for a sarcastic deflection, but when she saw the somberness in his eyes, she knew he was opting for honesty. "I don't know," he said calmly.

"I love my daughter. You love my daughter. You are still the only man that will torment, challenge and irritate her enough for her to love back. What do you have to say for yourself?"

He shrugged, staring at her wide-eyed.

"I'll forever remember this as the day I got you to shut up. I'll keep going, since I don't expect your silence to last long. You're lucky," she said definitively, "I blame her and her insane career-driven lifestyle and impossible standards just as much as I blame you."

Arlene walked through the living room to the kitchen. "Julia, I did mention that she was probably fine and just _completely_ lost track with reality, didn't I? I saw the police cars leaving here, I'm assuming that means you called them anyway? Go home, see your children. Lisa was never one to talk to us about anything important anyway."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, arms folded protectively across her abdomen as she and House walked out of the living room, "Please tell me you have something stashed in this place that we can use to drug her," he whispered to Cuddy as she scowled a warning in his direction.

"Now Greg, have we done any maturing over the last few years?" Arlene asked as she sat down at the table.

"Not really," he answered flippantly.

"Have the two of you discussed marriage and family this time, or did you still 'not get around to it'?"

"Mom!" Cuddy complained.

"It's a legitimate question, Lisa. I thought you were _slightly_ past your prime the last time the two of you dated. You are _really_ not getting any younger at this point."

"I'm closer to retirement than fatherhood," House answered, disliking the sounds of words as they left his lips.

"Fine, what about marriage? You need to look at these things seriously because you are running out of time. I'd hate for you to die alone, but then I guess that's how you spent most of your life, so…"

House began to speak, his will to remain silent around Arlene quickly being worn away, until Cuddy stepped in front of him with a silent request that he refrain from answering once again.

"Please Mom, not today," Cuddy said, pleading.

"I'm assuming you're likely the obstacle to marriage, not him. Not the thing a mother wants to hear. It would be nice to see you chose at least one of the many men that have sauntered through your life to actually mean something more."

Sighing, Cuddy left the room, excusing herself to the bathroom.

"Thank you," Arlene said to House as Cuddy disappeared, "she finally looks better. I don't know why you'd bother after everything that happened between the two of you, but she seems much more like herself."

House nodded his acceptance of her thanks while waiting for the woman to say something insulting.

"I wish I knew what it was about the way that you annoy her that seems to make her so damn happy…well…happy for her. You two should get married, and you should definitely convert, she's worth it."

"Because she's so devout?"

"Because that's what you do. I would like to know my daughter is well taken care of..."

"Of the two of us, I think she's the one with the money. She doesn't need to be taken care of by anyone."

"Don't screw up again. My granddaughter, like her mother…liked you. Way more than you deserved. Children are remarkable judges of character, so I'll let the past slide."

They heard Cuddy returning to the room and the old woman's entire demeanor changed, "Well, I'll be going," she said suddenly.

"Let's have dinner, Mom, I'll make something"

"No offense, dear, but I'd like to have something and still feel full in an hour."

Cuddy's eyes went slowly closed as she nodded her head.

"Now that I know you are OK, I'll be heading home."

Within moments, Arlene was driving away. "What the fuck just happened?" House asked.

"I really don't know. "

"Definite upshot, I wasn't arrested, so tonight I'll be sleeping next to you instead of someone sweaty, hairy and flat-chested."

Cuddy grabbed a dustpan and finally cleaned up the glass she had thrown on the ground during their previous argument, and scrubbed the floor where the drink had spilled.

"I can't believe you left it there to make a point."

"And I can't believe my mother is still talking to me like I'm twenty and she's hoping for a traditional wedding and three more grandkids."

"You could still try," he said softly.

"Yes, that's a brilliant idea, so I can experience the pain of repeated miscarriages…again, and revisit another way I failed as a mother…again… No thank you, way too many painfully lonely and devastated moments associated with that phase in my life."

"You aren't alone anymore. You didn't even try to confide in me then, except for at the very beginning, and even then it was as a doctor, not as a friend."

"Because at that time, you would learn things and then use them against people in whatever way you could to cause the most pain at the perfect moment."

"Some of the things I said and did are unforgivable, I acknowledge that."

"It isn't that, I forgive you, I really do."

"I just…I want you to have the things you want. All of them"

"How old would you be when our child would graduate from High School?"

"Ours?"

"Who else do you think I'd have a kid with?"

"It just sounded odd, that's all."

"We usually do. I just want to concentrate on us. On making us work. You need to believe that _this_ is what I want. You're assuming I have these underlying wants that I'm not expressing, and it's just not true. I don't shy away from confrontation."

"OK. Why didn't call to your Mom or you sister?"

"Fine...I don't avoid confrontation _with you_. I do occasionally avoid it with my Mother. I was just having fun with you, and avoiding the whole discussion. In the last few weeks I've lost a job and started seeing the man that everyone knows…I started seeing you again. I knew Julia would not react well. I knew my Mother would inevitably have things to say."

"They both complain that you don't open up to them anyway."

"I don't. It's not easy for me, that's just who I am. I'd rather talk to another emotionally stunted ticking time bomb of pent up feelings," she smiled.

"Always pursuing the best," he smiled back. "We really need to step up this whole running away thing! Other people are a huge pain in the ass."


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N-**_Thank you so much to all those who read the last chapter. A special thanks to all of the reviewers: CaptainK8, IHeartHouseCuddy, housebound, JLCH, Asia, dmarchl, Josam, ClareBear14, Mon Fogel, bonneiyy77, irina, Alex, lenasti16, HuddyGirl, RedTulipAna, Boo's House and AB.  
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**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD  
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><p>"So…that was the ex, huh?" House asked as he drove them back to his place. He admitted to himself with great joy that, if there were any concerns that lingered in the back of his mind about Cuddy's ex, they had faded considerably after meeting him.<p>

"I know, he seems a bit odd for me," Cuddy said, slightly embarrassed.

"He seems a bit odd, period. Did you _actually_ sleep with that guy?"

"Arrgh," she complained as she tapped her fists on her knees, "We don't always have to have this conversation about every single guy I've ever known."

"Known, OK…but you actually _dated_ him. It's almost like you really wanted to try all of the opposites of me. 'Naively happy immature guy', 'boring stuck up smart guy', all of them probably 'much worse in bed than me guy'…"

"You're immature and smart, so, I guess you have some thing in common with each of them."

"But I'm not smart and boring, and I'm not immature and naively happy. It's all in how the defining characteristics are bundled," he explained.

"At least he was free," she retorted.

"As in 'available'? Yes, I'm sure he's been 'free' most of his life."

"Without cost," she clarified.

"You had a coupon?"

"You are so goddamn irritating sometimes."

"It's a gift. Why is it that your mom actually likes me, and likes me with you, and yet, I still want to avoid her at all costs?"

"Because she's annoying, opinionated and overbearing?"

House smirked at her, "Just like…"

"If you even say that I am just like my mother, _I_ will be the one doing time for domestic violence," Cuddy interrupted sternly.

His eyes widened with amusement, "Sounds hot, count me in. So…your sister really hates me…should make thanksgiving fun! Can we send _her_ on the wild goose chase to the middle of nowhere this year, or…does that role always have to be filled by me?"

Cuddy sighed as she dropped her head back, "I'm sorry, really…"

"No, no, don't be. We just didn't do the 'nearly unforgivable prank' tradition in my family for the holidays, I was ill-prepared. It was nice of you to let me in on your fine family traditions before I was part of the family."

"This year, I'll make it up to you by sending both of us really far away from my family."

"That's closer to my family tradition, I can teach you our ways."

"I am sorry I did that…I just didn't know what you were up to, and you were always up to something…I didn't realize you were really trying."

"I was really trying _and _I was up to something. I wanted you for myself."

"So my actions weren't entirely unjustified."

"That was a bad time."

"You were clean, you were definitely trying to get yourself together, so it wasn't entirely bad," she said before she started to fiddle with the radio, looking for something that would suit them both.

"Not entirely bad?" he asked as he tapped the steering wheel.

"Huh?" she asked.

He breathed out a disbelieving chuckle, "That was a _really_ fucking fantastic time in _my_ life. Let me provide a brief refresher…"

Cuddy's expression changed entirely when she heard the tenseness and venom in his voice. He reached up and, with one precise and angry gesture, tapped the button to stop the flood of sound pouring in through the speakers.

"I had, what could possibly be, the second worst year of my life, the first being the year that you dumped me. Just to put things into perspective, let's keep in mind that those two years actually beat out the year of my infarction and all of the shit that followed that…"

Cuddy was expressionless, eyes wide at the sudden disclosure. She tried to reach out to him, but he motioned her away.

She began to speak and he stopped her promptly, "I'm not done yet," he said with completely sincerity. "I decided that you were worth fighting everything for: my misery, my demons, the drugs, so I wanted to actually get clean. I tried to be patient, to put a little space between the loony bin and the time when I'd actually make a move, because I thought you deserved someone that wasn't fresh out of the straight jacket, only to find out that you hooked up with one of the least worthy men on the face of the fucking planet."

"Lucas was…"

"No, I'm still not done yet," he interrupted, "This should have been said a long time ago. You didn't even have enough respect for me to tell me you were seeing someone. Not only did I get to be humiliated in front of him once, when I figured out that you were seeing him, but I also found out that you told him about all of the painful and truly humiliating shit that led to my sojourn at Mayfield in the first place. I had no Vicodin to numb the pain and I had to sit and watch the two of you play happy family."

"I'm sure that was horrible for you, I am …truly sorry for everything that happened then…I was confused…and scared. It was 'oh my god he wants me' and then 'damn he really hates me' back and forth for years. And the only thing I saw in that was a great big chance for me to get really, really hurt and completely ruin our working relationship, which was really the only relationship we had at the time."

"I know," he said with quiet resignation.

"While you were gone, I was sad…and…saw the opportunity to have something…to…have a normal family with a normal life. Lucas was stable, great with Rachel…and sweet."

"All of the things I wasn't."

"I didn't say that at all."

"I couldn't decide…if I wanted to risk that much heartache…if it was better to try to save you from the pain of me hurting you…I'd always make the decision that we definitely shouldn't be together, and then the next minute we'd be flirting our way right back to the same place."

"Trust me, after you got clean, and started hinting that you wanted me…"

"Hinting?"

"Yea, you were still hinting…you weren't direct…"

"At that time, given that it had to do with me and _feelings_…I was pretty direct."

"Fine. Anyway, when I started to figure out that you wanted me, I really hated coming home to him. I really started to resent him."

"But then accepted his ring," House said somewhat bitterly.

"In my defense, it _was_ one of the world's shortest engagements!" she argued.

"You know what I realized far too late? If you could leave an actual engagement that easily, you could certainly leave me without a second thought."

"You and Lucas...he never even came _close_ to being as important as you have been in my life. I didn't know you were still upset about this…"

"I had one and a half friends back then. I tried to fix my life to be good enough for you, only to find out you're sleeping with the 'and a half' friend."

"I wish I could change that…I really do."

"I guess it doesn't matter."

"I still didn't want to hurt you."

"It just pissed me off that you would think that year wasn't bad…as if I didn't have any feelings at all. Always comes back to the fact that you see the caricature of me…same as everyone else."

"No I don't. I saw potential with you long before now. I was willing to get involved with you when you were still high and crazy…you pushed me away."

"Because you meant something…because you could hurt me and I didn't want to hurt you."

She reached over for his hand, removing it from the steering wheel and holding it with both of her smaller hands. "All of those nights a few years ago...when we were chatting in bed or at dinner or on drives, you never once mentioned anything about this."

"Neither did you. We didn't talk about things like that," he stated evenly.

They rode in silence for quite some time until they approached his neighborhood. "Hey Cuddy…that first kid you tried to adopt…"

"Urgh," she groaned, "speaking of painful memories…"

"That night when I showed up, and …"

"Or…more appropriately, speaking of extremely painful memories, followed by really arousing memories, followed by really painful memories…"

"If I wouldn't have left when I did?"

She laughed softly, "If you hadn't left when you did…given all of the pent up emotion that I had, and how long it had been since the last time I had sex…I was a sure thing. I was probably half way there before you even left."

"Missed opportunities."

"You would have missed a week of work, woke up chained to the bed…"

"I think we should definitely try to reenact that memory…role playing us, reliving fine moments in history."

"Nope too late," she giggled as she watched disappointment coat his expression.

He flashed a smirk when he saw a van parked in front of Kate's. "This'll be fun. Come on, woman!" he said happily as he got out of the car.

The living room was littered with instruments and musicians who all looked remarkably happy to see House, and surprised to see Cuddy. "That must be one of Kate's new girls," one of them snickered.

On cue, Kate sauntered into the room, handing them each a drink and making quick introductions.

The musicians all eagerly asked House to join them for a while, as he had many times in the past, for an evening of music in the living room. "I can't…not tonight," he said, working his way past the open instrument cases, bodies and equipment.

Cuddy could sense how much he wanted to join them and pulled him aside. "Play for a little while. I'll go soak and relax…enjoy," she smiled at him.

"You sure?"

"Definitely," she said as she patted his arm and walked back toward his bedroom, the chorus of jeers behind her.

"Your girl give you permission to come out and play?" one unfamiliar voice said, and similar insults followed from several different voices, each met with a chorus of laughter.

Cuddy was just about to close the door to his bedroom when she heard one person say, "What's she charge by the hour, I'll take her next!"

She winced, as the giggles, laughter and jeers came to an abrupt halt, at what she knew was a very threatening look from House. She closed the door softly, hoping the look was going to be his only response.

She soaked in the tub for a while as the sounds of the musicians in the living room drifted through the home. She missed Rachel. Even in her happiest moments, that loss was somewhere in her mind. But she found something she never thought she would. She wasn't lost and alone. Weeks earlier she sat in her silent home, surrounded by ghosts, failed dreams and emptiness. Now she was soaking in a bathtub, waiting for him, listening to musicians improvise and toy with different sounds that filled the entire home with life.

After she soaked for a while, she dressed comfortably and snuck out of the room to watch him. He was completely unaware that she was there, lost in emotion and music, playing the guitar that she bought for him a few weeks earlier.

Kate crept up beside her, "I like, completely heard that he thinks you're cute. In fact, he wanted me to hand you a note, in study hall, just check 'yes' if you like him, or 'no' if you want him to slink slowly to a miserable death," she joked, jabbing Cuddy's arm with her elbow. "Come on, let's have a drink."

* * *

><p>When House took a break from playing he didn't see Kate or Cuddy anywhere. He snuck down the hall, finding the two women on the floor in his room. Cuddy was leaning against the wall, her head back, Kate lying flat on the floor a foot or so away. Both of them had clearly been drinking, not drunk, but pleasantly buzzed as he eavesdropped.<p>

"...I could teach you yoga," Cuddy offered.

"Show me some now, I could get all centered…" Kate requested.

"Inversion and drinking are a bad combination."

"Sissy."

Cuddy chuckled. "Besides, I'm way too relaxed right now to stand up."

"Good. You like it here? I mean…you're comfortable here, right?" Kate asked.

"Sure."

"You should stay. You guys don't have to worry about how I feel about it, I'm all for you being here," Kate said as she rolled over on her stomach and propped her body up on her elbows, waiting for an answer.

"Thanks," Cuddy said.

"I like having you around. He needs you…he really does. We'll get along great as long as you don't hurt him. I don't want to have to destroy you…"

Cuddy smiled at Kate, rolling her head along the wall before taking a long swig of her drink. "Don't tell him this…you can keep a secret, right?"

"If it's something that will hurt him…I can't make that promise," Kate answered honestly.

"It isn't. At least I don't think it is."

"OK, then I promise. Tell me."

"I am definitely _not_ going to hurt him. I don't even know if I could leave if I wanted to anymore. I don't want to have to learn to be without him again."

"Why wouldn't you want him to know that?"

"Because…I don't ever want him to stay with me because he feels he has to…because he feels trapped, or obligated. But…he's the only person I fully trust. Is that bad?"

"You asking me as a friend, or as a shrink?"

"Either."

"As a shrink, I'd probably tell you that I'm sure it was exceptionally hard for you to reach out after the horrible loss you experienced, and that having someone that you can trust with those kinds of feelings can be the difference between life and death…literally. I'd also suggest that it's good to keep other connections as well, in case one day he isn't available when you need him. The whole 'emotional eggs in one basket' sorta thing. But I think having at least one good confidant that you can be truly honest with...that's very important."

"And…as a friend? What would your answer be?"

"As a friend, I'd say…I think you made a wise choice in someone to trust. And that your trust in him, probably changed the rest of both of your lives."

"He was doing fine before I got here," Cuddy stated.

"He was getting by," Kate replied, standing up to leave the room. "Now, the lovely woman you set me up with is on her way over, so I'll have to catch up with you later."

* * *

><p>Later that night, when the music had faded, House climbed into bed next to an already sleeping Cuddy, happy to find his bed warm, and his woman eager to pull him close and sigh contentedly against his chest. At that moment, his leg didn't hurt, his body was warm and relaxed, and Cuddy was next to him, proving each day that she was as willing to work on them as he was. He faded into sleep where his father waited impatiently to remind him: "The true strength of a man isn't known until it's tested."<p> 


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N-**_Thank you so much for reading, everyone. Thank you particularly, as always, to those people who left me their thoughts in a review:_

_JamHuddyFan/ClareBear14/IWuvHouse-it will all make sense soon! If I tell you everything right away the story will be over :)  
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_Bakerstreet Blues (thank you so much…that REALLY means a lot), JLCH (I really feel they're equally messed up! and I loved your chapter Saturday), touchatoucha7 (made my day with your Fic completion!), Lynnie5267 (So excited you started reading, thanks for reviewing!), huddyholic (I'm sorry I made you cry…I almost feel bad!), yahnis14 (thank you so much for reviewing whenever you can, thank you for your kind words), Mon Fogel (there's a lot for them to discuss...they just have to!)  
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_Josam/dmarchl /IHeartHouseCuddy/Alex-I love having the opportunity to touch on things from their past because there's so much unfinished!_

_Boo's House/lenasti16/RedTulipAna/TheHouseWitch-Cuddy's behavior with the Lucas issue/thanksgiving…almost ruined her for me I found it to be so cruel…I agree with so many of you, it hurt to watch_

_Not So Little Greg -In a paraphrase from the show…'I think in some cultures that's actually a proposal of marriage' :)  
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**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter contains adult content (marked between "*"). There is important content on either side, with a smutty heart in the center...just like me :)  
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* * *

><p>He woke to the sounds of Kate showering in the next room. It was 12:30, the room dark, cool and quiet save the clanking of the water pipes from her shower. He assumed that she was called into work on an emergency. Walking out to the living room after he heard her out there, he saw she wasn't in professional attire, she was in jeans and a tee shirt. He saw her let the woman she had met the other night out the front door with a vague promise to call. Kate sat on the edge of the sofa, pulling on her socks and sneakers as he sat in the chair adjacent to the sofa, his long arms hanging over the sides.<p>

"Where you going?" he asked.

"Work."

"Why are you _lying_ about where you are going?"

She stopped pulling on her sneakers momentarily to look at him.

"We've known each other a while," he said, "so, I'll repeat, where are you going?"

"Out."

"Why did hot new girl leave?"

"Because I sent her home."

"Why?"

"I have something to take care of…"

He stared at her, scrutinizing her expression, "I'll find out one way or another, so you can either tell me, or I can go get dressed and go with you wherever you want to go. Unless you feel like my chipper company for the remainder of the night…"

She sighed, "Lucy…"

"Oh come on, you can't possibly be going to bail her out of whatever she's gotten herself into this time!" he said, immediately exasperated.

"She broke off her engagement. She just needs a friend."

"Tell her to pick a friend she wasn't sleeping with while engaged to the guy she's dumping. Or doesn't she have one of those?"

"She told me she has feelings for me."

"She says whatever she needs to say to string you along…as usual!" His voice elevated as he sat forward, annoyed with the choice she was about to make.

"This isn't your business…this is my business," she said, her voice steady and relaxed.

"After all we did to try to get that stupid bitch away from you!"

"I appreciate what you tried to do. I know you were doing what you thought was best for me. I understand that."

"But yet, you're throwing it all away."

"She cares about me…I know she does."

"Pull your head out of your goddamn ass and look at this objectively for five minutes! She doesn't love you! She will _never_ love you. This is a lose-lose situation for you, and she will still continue to use you…"

"I love her…" Kate said with calm resignation. "There is nothing I can do to change that. So, I'm, at the very least, going to go see what she has to say."

"Then you are a much bigger fucking moron than I thought."

"Probably," she replied without a hint of anger or irritation, which simply made him angrier.

"You know what, Kate? You are _choosing_ to be unhappy. Choosing to throw yourself down into that pit again."

"I know," she said, nodding calmly as she sat on the edge of the sofa, elbows on her knees, hands folded and head bowed.

"I'm not going to be there to help you get rid of the crazy bitch next time. You go back into this knowing that you will have to clean up the mess on your own."

"OK," she said, looking up to meet his gaze. Her attention turned toward the door when there was a honk from a car horn outside. "That's her. I'll talk to you later. I know this seems stupid and crazy. It's just what I have to do. I appreciate you trying to help me, you know I do."

"You are actively choosing misery. This will _NOT_ be good, and whatever happens, you deserve exactly what you get," he said indignantly.

"See ya later," she said as she walked out, pulling the door shut behind her.

He groaned his discontent and leaned back into the chair, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Fuck," he griped, frustrated with the situation far more than he wanted to be.

Everything about it irritated him. He didn't like Lucy, at all. He hated Kate's allegiance to Lucy even more. Stupidity had always irritated him, but it irritated him even more when someone as intelligent as Kate would be involved in something so blatantly _un_intelligent. His mind searched for ways to correct the situation. He began to consider his next move, because although he told Kate he wasn't getting involved, he decided that Kate needed him to save her from herself.

When he felt glancing pressure on his shoulder he jumped, turning to see Cuddy, with her hand resting on him. "Y'OK?" she yawned. "I heard you guys fighting…"

"We weren't _fighting_. She was being a moron and I was yelling at her for it."

She sat on the coffee table in front of him, her knees between his. "I think she's ditching the girl you set her up with," he mumbled.

"I'm not taking it personally. She messaged me earlier, said she kinda thought that might happen. She's fine, it wasn't like Kate strung her on or anything. Does this have something to do with Lucy?"

"Yea, Lucy. And the fact that Kate's a fucking moron."

"People could say that to you about giving me another chance. Or vice versa."

"Lucy's a bitch."

"Yea…she is. But if I were your friend, and you told me about your past with some _Cuddy _woman, I'd be able to build a pretty convincing case against me too."

"True, but that was two-sided…you were dealing with me, not Kate. Kate's constantly fucking nice to her. She never turns the bullshit back on her."

"Maybe she should," Cuddy offered as she leaned forward and pulled his forehead to her shoulder. He sat there, rigidly at first, then slowly calming. She wasn't sure if he was going to pull away or become irritated at her attention, but he didn't. He rested there as his breathing and heart rate returned to normal. He pressed his nose into the crook of her neck and tried to absorb her into him. He inhaled deeply as the scent of her filled his nose and swam around in his head, bathing his brain in that calming sensation only she seemed to produce. From the point of contact, he felt _her_ spread through his veins, flooding his body through air and blood, the parallels to drugs unmistakable and achingly real. Her fingers found their way to the back of his neck, spreading the sensations across his skin in a chilly-heat.

"You are so much more dangerous than Vicodin…" he said, his breath blowing against her collarbone.

"I know," she answered, wrapping the fingers of one hand tighter around the back of his neck.

They sat there, almost perfectly still for a long time until he leaned back in the chair and half smiled a thanks at her, the meaning perfectly understood.

"Wanna drink?" she offered.

"No," he replied quietly.

"I'll get you something to eat…"

"Not hungry."

"Want your guitar?"

"Don't feel like playing."

"Sleepy?"

"No."

"Sex?"

"Nope."

Her eyes widened, "You really aren't OK...what…what can I do, you want me to leave you alone to think for a bit or you want to plot revenge? I'll help!" she offered enthusiastically.

He could see the worry in her eyes, and appreciated both the actual things she offered, as well as what her offerings said about how well she knew him. "Stop worrying, I lied about the sex," he smirked.

"You're just saying that so I won't worry anymore."

"No, I'm not. The list of times when I don't want to have sex with you is remarkably short."

She giggled, patted his face and walked out to the kitchen, opening the fridge to get a drink.

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

He followed her to the kitchen, finding her still at the fridge. "I wasn't just saying that for your benefit," he said as he roughly tugged her hair to one side to attack her neck. Her perfect ass pressed back against him instinctively as he groaned, her hands fumbling for the refrigerator door, trying to push it closed, missing and scattering the contents of the top shelf around haphazardly.

"It was your idea. You offered. Don't you want to make me feel better…I'm sad…" he said, feigning a whine as he kissed and nipped at her neck and shoulder. "Or were you just being a tease?"

"You're right, I'm such a tease. How many _hours _has it been since the last time I…" her snark faded into a groan as the heel of his hand pressed against her center through her clothes, sending harsh pulses of sensation and a flood of warmth to her most intimate places. His other arm wrapped around her waist to pull her up and against him. "God…" she moaned as she felt him becoming aroused, "I can't believe you still want this…so often."

"Get used to it if you intend on staying. If it ever becomes necessary, I'll find a way to mainline Viagra," he said as she chuckled slightly, quivering against him.

"What if Kate comes back?" Cuddy asked, reluctant to break the spell by mentioning her name.

"She won't be back tonight, trust me," he muttered, refusing to miss a beat.

She moaned her agreement, her body moving seductively against him. His hand wound through her clothes, selfishly groping at her as she rocked against him. Clothes were removed or pushed aside as touches, rough, needy, passionate and all things in between were shared as each tried to drive the other to beg. He pushed her forward over the counter and took her forcefully, pausing much longer than he needed to once they were completely joined, savoring the sensations of his favorite drug.

They knew instinctively exactly how to move against each other: the best angles, the right force, the exact sounds. They were perfect together, whether slowly expressing their deepest feelings physically, playfully enjoying sex or, as they were now, almost frantically devouring each other by taking what they needed, while desperately trying to meet the other's need as well.

"*"

* * *

><p>They both vaguely registered the sounds of his phone ringing in the background, barely a nuisance and certainly not an impediment to their satisfaction.<p>

Later, they panted against each other until he helped her dress and pulled her into the living room to recover. She saw his phone flicker as a reminder popped up on the screen that there was a message. "It was Kate, looks like she called four times," Cuddy said, grabbing his phone from the coffee table and handing it to him.

"Later," he said as he started drifting off to sleep on the sofa with her against him.

An hour later, when the doorbell rang, Cuddy jumped up off of the sofa, startled that someone would be there so late at night. She opened it to find Lucy and a man standing on the doorstep. "Where's House?" Lucy asked, her voice shaking.

"What do you want? It's the middle of the night!" Cuddy asked as she turned the front porch light on. What she saw astounded her. Lucy was covered in blood, her hair disheveled and matted in places, the man next to her a security guard from the hospital. "What happened?" Cuddy asked, her own voice now shaking as well, as House walked over to join her.

"Kate…she's at the hospital. He's the fucking proxy, and he needs to make some decisions," Lucy said, pointing angrily at House. "This guy drove me out here to find you since you won't answer your damn phone. He'll wait and drive us all back in, come on."

"Is she OK?" Cuddy asked.

"No. She was shot. It's…bad…" Lucy answered.

"Yea, sure," House said disbelievingly. "We'll drive ourselves in then, thanks."

He slammed the door and sauntered over to sit in the chair, completely emotionless, leaned back into the cushions of the seat and closed his eyes.

Cuddy opened the door, and told Lucy, "We need ten minutes and we'll be on our way. I'll drive us in."

Cuddy ran around, trying to get ready to leave when she realized House hadn't moved from the chair. "What in the hell are you doing, House, we have to get down there. Come on, what are you waiting for?"

"My dad," he said calmly.

"Your dad? Your dad's…been dead for years," she said nervously, concerned that the emotional strain had triggered a psychological episode.

"Yea, he'll be here in a minute. It's all the same…a variation on the same theme. You. Kate. Someone's gonna die, he'll show up to remind me that he still thinks I'm a failure and I'll wake up."

She ran over to him, grabbing his shoulders, "Are you OK? Seriously, I promise I'll help you however I can, but you need to keep it together!"

"It's just a dream. A new take on the same fucking dream. Come here, it'll be over soon," he said, tapping his chest so she'd join him.

"House…" she said, gripping his shoulders, "This…is not a dream. You have to get down there."

* * *

><p>When they walked through the doors of the trauma unit, the realism of the situation hit harder than House ever thought it could. Most of the woman's face was covered with bandages, but the remainder was bruised and swollen. Her mouth was filled with the tube from the ventilator, IV lines leading into her arms and sensors attached across her head and torso. Her head had been completely shaved and he realized that at least one of the bullets must have hit her brain. She was unrecognizable, and part of him hoped that there had been an error, or that this was all some game Lucy was playing.<p>

He approached the bed slowly, hooking his cane on a table, and pulled back the edge of the blanket that covered her.

"What are you doing, you fucking perv," Lucy screamed at him as he freed the patient's leg from the blanket.

He turned to the doctor waiting in the corner of the room. "I'm her proxy?" House asked calmly.

"Full power of attorney, granted to Gregory House, separate paperwork in place naming you as medical proxy as well, and a living will that lists you as the contact. As a doctor, she was extremely thorough. All we need is ID," the doctor responded.

House handed his wallet to Cuddy, who removed his ID and took it to the doctor. "You signed all of this stuff, you must have known about it," the doctor said.

House looked at him blankly for a moment. "Of course. I just wanted to make sure you had all of the paperwork."

He looked down at Kate's ankle for the monkey tattoo that he had seen hundreds of times. His heart fell slightly when he realized that it was indeed her underneath the wires and bandages. "Everything's in place," the doctor stated calmly. "We can fill you in on her condition, and try to help you make an informed decision on her care. Is there anything we can do for you right now?"

His face wrinkled in thought, the severity of the situation creeping into his mind. "I want her," he said, pointing at Lucy, "out of here. She's not family or friend, so if someone could take out the trash…"

"You're a fucking prick, I have every bit as much of a right to be here as you do," Lucy hollered angrily.

"Guess you pissed off the wrong guy," House responded, "it would be best if you just left on your own, but I'll get them to call security if you'd like…"

Lucy stormed out of the room, muttering under breath, virtually unnoticed by House. He turned to the doctor, "I need all of her records, any scans, lists of any procedures that were done, tests that were ordered and any results that may already be in. If you guys could just give them to Doctor Cuddy here," he said gesturing to her, "I'll let you know if we need any help. We'll inform you of what we want to do as soon as we have a chance to review everything."

The doctor nodded, "House…I know you used to be a doctor and I know you work here," he said calmly, "but this is a really difficult decision for anyone, and it may help you to have someone objective to assist you…"

"I'm extremely objective, that's why she chose me to make these decisions," House said calmly. "So, if you don't mind, get me the materials I asked for, so I can figure out what in the hell I'm doing."


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N**_**-**trust me…I ended the last chapter at the best place that I could. Since I try to flow one thing into the next, I always have to stop when something's going on. I tried to be kind with the break spots on this chapter. Tomorrow might be a day I can't update...I blame work._

_Thank you to all of the people that read and to those who review, it keeps me motivated: IHeartHouseCuddy, KiwiClare, Bakerstreet Blues, JLCH, newsession, Housebound, TheHouseWitch, Josam, ClareBear14, Boo's House, lenasti16, dmarchl, Alex, IWuvHouse, HuddyGirl, Mon Fogel, CaptainK8 and JamHuddyFan.  
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_I can't begin to tell you how cool it is that so many of you like Kate...I was concerned about introducing an OC.  
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**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. Also…I still know absolutely nothing about doctorish things and medicine…if you were once on a plane, and a doctor sat in your row…you know more than me, kindly excuse my ignorance of such things._

* * *

><p>House and Cuddy had images, files and test results sprawled around Kate's office. He was focused, considering the facts methodically, which conveniently allowed him to avoid acknowledging the personal side of the issue. There was a bullet that went through her chest, which pierced a lung, and another that penetrated the top of her skull. The brain injury was of greater concern, and at that time, doctors were trying to control swelling and monitor the brain for changes. Surgery had been done to remove bullet fragments that were in her brain, and to repair hematomas that had formed from the trauma. All they could do at that time was wait. Kate was in a coma, not uncommon for a person who had experienced a traumatic brain injury.<p>

He tried to remain objective, repeating to himself that there was no point in jumping to conclusions too quickly. Cuddy settled into a table at the corner of the office to review all of the information. An over-sized envelope had contained all of the legal paperwork that Kate had prepared in the event of an accident. She went through the paperwork, deciphering what she could from the legalese.

"You didn't know, did you?" she asked.

"About what?" he answered.

"That you were her proxy, you held POA, about the living will?"

"Nope."

"These are…signed…and notarized…"

"Forged," he answered calmly. "She loves to drop me little reminders of just how similar we are."

Cuddy offered a sad smile as she opened another envelope. Inside was a simple will. "House…if something happens…she left you everything."

"What?" he said, completely taken aback.

"The house, the bar, all of her things. Left to you."

He leaned back in the chair behind Kate's desk, looking at various pictures which lined the walls. For all of the people that surrounded Kate, few of them were true friends. "Why in the hell would she do that?" he asked with confusion.

"There's a letter," she said as she stood up and carried over an envelope with his name scrawled across the front.

He held the envelope in front of him, looking at the letters that she had once written, and wondering at the contents. "You gonna open it?" Cuddy asked.

"Not now."

As much as he wanted to open the envelope to satisfy his curiosity, opening it seemed to imply acceptance that she was already gone. He did not feel optimistic about her recovery, in fact, he wasn't really considering the possibility that she could recover at all. He was cataloging the indicators he would use to determine when it was time to remove life support. He knew this decision would come before he could be ready, so he wanted to be as prepared as possible.

"I'm gonna go over and check on her," Cuddy said, "You want to come?"

"No. They'll let me know if anything changes. I'll wait here."

Cuddy went to Kate's room, greeted by the clicks, whirrs and beeps of life support that were keeping Kate alive.

She sat next to the bed, extending one hand out to wrap around Kate's wrist.

"What the fuck happened?" she whispered to Kate. "You really stepped in it this time. I hope you know, he didn't mean that stuff that he said before you left. I mean, he meant it at the time…he just…cares about you so much, and caring, it isn't easy for him. He wants to protect you…make sure you don't get hurt."

Cuddy looked down at the tattoo he had used to verify her identity. It was a dancing monkey skeleton, with a wide, mischievous grin and it seemed a strangely appropriate choice for Kate.

"Look…" she continued after a few moments, "we need you to be alright. You need to wake up really soon and make some sort of snide comment about how much more clever you are than him, and how you are going to steal me away. Kate, he really needs you…we both do. You…are really the closest family he's got, and he needs to know that someone has his back all of the time. That there is someone who is rabidly in his corner. Someone he can go complain to when I make him crazy. No matter how hard I try, I'm still me, and there are going to be times when I make him completely insane. You are the only person in the world that he can tell this stuff to, and know, with complete certainty that you'd never tell a soul."

She rested there, watching the monitor for signs of any sort of reaction. "Look, I need to get back up there to him. You do everything you can to come back…but…" She sighed thoughtfully, "if…you can't come back…and there is …something…anything…on the other side…find Rachel. She's…sweet and loving and I know she will help you feel at home. And…you can be there with her, since I can't. Just…promise me…if that happens, you'll do me one favor. Just…tell her that I love her, and I miss her…so very much."

Cuddy's head fell down on to the bed near Kate's hip, her hand still holding Kate's wrist.

"I'm gonna to decide by tonight what to do," she heard House say, his voice deep, soft and raspy from the doorway.

"What can I do for now?" she asked as she stood from the chair and walked over in front of him.

His eyes were red and she could see that the personal, emotional side had finally hit him while he sat alone, or perhaps while he overheard her words to Kate.

"Go home," he said softly.

"Oh…OK. Are you coming?"

"Waiting here."

"Alright, I'll be there in case you can come home to get some rest."

"No…I mean, go home. To Baltimore, I need some time."

"No, please…House, don't do this…"

"I'll call you, tomorrow, I promise. And don't call Wilson. Don't send someone here, please. I need to be by myself."

"Just let me stay, I won't bother you."

"I need you to do this right now."

"This isn't the time for you to be alone."

"Maybe not, but…it's what I want. If you respect me at all…if you actually do love me, this is what I need you to do."

She looked up at him, pleading, but saw he wasn't changing his mind. She wrapped her arms around him and was met by the same cold, guarded touch that he had so often used when people tried to express affection. She felt her heart break at the gigantic leap backwards. She looked up into distant and heartbroken eyes, and considered suddenly that this could be the last time she could see him.

"Please?" she asked one more time.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he answered.

She had heard this from him before, so long ago that it seemed like a different lifetime, that he would 'call her tomorrow'. That phone call never came.

"I need you to trust me," he added.

She hugged him again, feeling sick and completely consumed by sadness. She didn't want to be without him anymore, and yet, when things got to be too much, he still couldn't let her in.

She walked down through the lobby to the parking garage, the sun beginning to light up the morning sky. She had felt for the first time in a very long time that she was completely alone.

She drove back to Baltimore, wondering how he'd get home from the hospital without a car. She wondered if he'd have to make the painful decision to remove Kate from life support, and if so, would he have to be there alone while Kate's heart took its last few beats. She wanted desperately to be there beside him, to do anything she could to help.

The entire journey back was filled with tears, and when she arrived in her empty home she had no memory of actually making the drive. She wanted to turn around instantly, return to his side, plead for him to allow her to be somewhere in his presence, to do anything to try to ease his pain.

She saw images in her head that she couldn't shake, of him in pain, of him sprawled across the floor in his own vomit, or him relapsing uncontrollably and not surviving at all. She wondered if he'd just disappear, without a word, if she'd spend the rest of her life wondering what happened to him, wondering if he even thought of her.

She thought again about returning to the hospital, of getting back in her car and making the drive to tell him she refused to leave his side, no matter what. As romantic as that notion sounded, she knew the truth…if he were to survive this, if their relationship could somehow withstand the test of this tragedy, he would always see her return as a symbol of her lack of trust in him, her complete lack of faith in his strength.

She decided she had to give him the time he needed to figure things out, she had to have faith that he could be as strong as she thought he was. She also decided that if he didn't call when he was supposed to, she wasn't going to sit by the phone with her sorrow. She couldn't let him go that easily.

She couldn't help but wonder about Kate. Could she recover? In such a short time, Cuddy really grew to like her and found their discussions effortlessly open and honest. House loved Kate, he found companionship and fierce loyalty in a place where he probably never meant to find it, in a sister.

She had no idea what to do, and tried to figure out how she'd survive the day. She could already envision herself waiting, the volume turned up on her ringer to its highest setting, and anticipating a call that potentially wouldn't come. She sat behind the piano, plunking notes and reminiscing over the sounds that he had made from the same instrument, drastically different from the pathetic clunkings she was producing.

She argued in her head repeatedly about what the correct course of action was in this scenario, hating herself for not professing her love one more time before leaving, hating herself for leaving his side at all. She went to Rachel's room, her thoughts returning to Kate. She still didn't know the exact circumstance or sequence of events that led to Kate's shooting and couldn't help but wonder what had transpired during the hours after Kate's argument with House.

She tried and failed to eat. She tried and failed to clean. She tried to nap in her own bed or in Rachel's again without success. Sitting in her living room, the day a torment she could scarcely survive, she picked up her phone, and decided that she had to text him. She wavered on the message, uncertain of what to say, and just as she was about to hit send, she heard a loud knock on the door. She rushed over to it, completely uncertain of what, or whom she would find, and hoping that the thudded knocking was in fact, produced by the sound of a cane thumping the door.

She opened it to find him standing on the other side. He was so tired and weary looking that his body looked almost limp, kept upright by the structure of his skeleton alone. "I thought I might not ever see you again," she said, tears streaming down her face over the wide smile that she couldn't suppress at the very sight of him.

"I know. I fucked up," he said, his eyes filled with regret.

"It's OK. We'll get through it," she said as she pulled him toward her with shocking strength and wrapped him in a tight hug. He didn't just accept this hug, he fell into it, finding the familiarity and warmth of her touch surprisingly reassuring. "We can get you to a drug counselor or a rehab or whatever you think is best…I'll be there, I'm not giving up…" she said as she sniffled, tears falling on behalf of his pain, tears falling from sheer relief and joy. "I'm just so glad you didn't overdose, I don't want to have to go back to being without you…ever."

His body was melting into hers, the cold distance that had settled over him now gone, and their attachment returned. He broke the hug to turn and wave to a car that sat in the street, likely in case Cuddy wasn't home, or if she refused him entry. The car beeped once in response before going down the road.

"You…think I relapsed?" he asked as she pulled him into her home.

"You didn't?"

"Nope."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed…wait. If you didn't relapse, what did you fuck up?"

"I made you leave. I thought I could handle all of this on my own, and maybe I could. But if you're still willing, I want you to come back with me."

"I want to be there with you."

"You thought that I relapsed… and you were still saying those things?" His look was beyond confused to the point of total bewilderment.

"Of course, I told you, I can't give up. You'll have to get rid of me if you don't want me anymore."

He managed a small smile as he sunk back into her embrace.

"Were you mad about what I said to Kate about seeing Rachel?"

"Of course not," he said, stepping back to look at her. "Why would I be angry about that?"

"That's when you asked me to leave, I though maybe you were upset about the way I was talking to her."

"I was upset because my closest friend is dying. Had nothing to do with you or anything you said."

"I was worried I drove you away."

"I'm not giving up either," he said softly.

After a few moments of quiet, he looked at her, his eyelids heavy, and said, "I'm so tired."

"Want a nap?"

"Yea," he nodded.

She wanted to know everything that had happened since she left. She wanted to know what he did with his time, was Kate still living, or was there news of any kind about her condition. How did he get there to Baltimore? Her racing mind, in all of its need, stopped spinning when she looked at him and registered his exhaustion.

"Need something to eat or drink?"

"Just tired. And I have to get back soon…just in case…"

"How long do you have?"

"Let's sleep two hours, then, we can go back. I don't know if she's gonna be OK," he answered somberly.

"Can you make it up the stairs?" she asked, seeing the degree of pain that he was in physically as well as mentally.

"Umm," he replied, looking at the stairs.

"Sofa then?"

"Let's go up to bed, I can make it."

She looped his arm around her shoulders, allowing him to distribute his weight between her and the railing along the stairs.

He was shocked by her physical strength, her tiny body bearing his weight with surprising grace and ease. She was surprised by the sheer force of his will, his resistance to the temptation of his addiction, his ability to withstand the emotional impact of such a traumatic event. The last few steps to her room were excruciating. Her one arm wrapped around him, the hand of her other arm splayed open against his chest to help give him balance.

He could hardly admit to himself how good it felt to have someone take care of him when he needed it most. He flopped onto the bed, on top of the covers, fully clothed. When she tried to take his shoes off, he sat up far enough to grab her hand and pull her next to him. "Just leave 'em."

She wiggled tightly against him. He yanked his phone from his pocket and said, "If I don't hear it just answer, in case it's the hospital. I have someone staying with Kate while I'm gone, but she'll have to leave this afternoon."

"I'll set the alarm. House?"

"Hunh?"

"Thank you for trusting in me enough to come back and get me."

"Thank you for trusting me enough to leave," he answered before he yawned.

He fell asleep almost immediately, the weight of his pain, both physical and emotional, coupled with sleep deprivation, weighed so heavily upon him that sleep was inevitable.

He woke when the alarm went off on his phone, extended the arm that was folded behind her head to picked it up, and hit 'snooze'. In a few moments, when the alarm would go off again, he would wake her and they'd begin the long drive back.

The rest of the day could bring things he did not want to face, and he worried that, within the next few days, one of the two people he was closest to would be dead. He didn't know exactly when, or if, he'd have to be the one to make the decision, or if Kate's body would make the decision for him. He didn't know how he'd manage the horrendous pain that was coursing through his leg. He didn't know how he'd handle all of the decisions that he'd have to make and he certainly didn't know if he could stand there idly by while death occurred.

In the face of so much pain and anguish, he learned valuable pieces of information. When everything went wrong, he could avoid relapse, and for possibly the first time in a very long time, he felt like he was truly stronger than his addiction. The thing that surprised him most was, when she had thought that he failed, that he had succumbed to temptation, she still loved him. She wanted him with her even if he was standing at her door high, broken and weak, with promises to help him move beyond the pain. Her devotion was more than he had ever expected from her, and well more than he thought he deserved. She was true to her claims that she wouldn't repeat the mistakes of the past and leave him without a fight.


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N**_-Hi all, I was a crappy responder, but wanted to get this chapter out today. I read these reviews on my phone during stupid work activities, seriously, thank you, it was so much better than working! A few people asked if this was the 'final' arc in this story...no not yet. I still have a few things on the outline that I want to cover and I'm still happily obsessing over this. Thank you so much to all of the reviewers since the last update: housebound, JLCH, Pdubou, IHeartHouseCuddy, leansti16, ClareBear14, newdayz, Boo's House, Josam, irina, dmarchl, LiaHuddy, LittleGreg, Lynnie5267, KiwiClare, Alex, SupDupaAlex, HuddyGirl, itzaboo, huddyholic and Mon Fogel_

_As I've done before I'm going back in time a little so you can see what you missed from House's perspective._

**Disclaimer**_**-**I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p><em>-House's side, the moment after Cuddy walked out the door.-<em>

The door shut softly behind House after Cuddy left the room, crestfallen and alone. Coming down to Kate's room was far more difficult than he had expected, but he gathered his will and limped further inside. "I _did_ mean it when I said you were a bigger fucking moron than I had thought," he said into the air as he walked over and sat down next to Kate. "But when I said you deserved exactly what you'd get…I didn't mean all of this," he said, regretting some of the words they had exchanged before she left that night.

House waited alone in the room for hours, looking for signs of any change or increased brain activity and found none. Staff on the floor left him alone except for mandatory rounds, and most of those who came in knew not to talk to the man keeping vigil by her side. He looked over the police report, which listed the incident as a botched robbery, although he felt certain there was more to the story.

Except for the mechanical sounds that filled the room, which faded to the back as they became too familiar from repetition, the room was silent. He sat questioning everything that had occurred. Kate had become a steady, reliable feature in his life, someone far too easily taken for granted. From the very beginning of their friendship she had been fiercely loyal, and non-judgmental about his scrupulously compiled laundry list of sins. In the beginning, he started throwing this list at her to see her reactions, and soon learned that nothing he had done seemed unforgivable or inhuman to her. She was flawed and openly accepting of her flaws with the same lack of apology that she maintained in her ardent support of him.

Her reaction to the renewal of a relationship with Cuddy surprised him beyond words. She had championed his pursuit of it since Cuddy was nothing more than a character in House's stories. When Cuddy actually showed up, when things started to get better, there wasn't a hint of jealousy in her demeanor, despite Kate's own complicated love life. Although she flirted shamelessly with Cuddy, and made comments that would have drawn warning glances or retribution from House if they came from anyone else, he trusted her completely.

Strangely, he wasn't even jealous of the friendship that had been growing between the two women. Seeing Cuddy in pain, speaking affectionately to Kate, hurt him, reminded him of all of the feelings he had about Kate's current condition, of the deep affection he had grown for the woman. He had sent Cuddy away before he even really comprehended what he was doing.

Parts of his brain wanted to spare her the pain of witnessing his collapse. In some ways her absence gave him total freedom to do whatever he saw fit. His old doubts, the feeling that she deserved more than him, the thought that she'd just suddenly leave, were all flooding his head. Then he wondered if she'd even answer if he called. Was his rejection of her offer of help enough to remind her of why he was unworthy?

Rubbing his leg in an attempt to ward off the discomfort that was quickly becoming pain, he pulled the now wrinkled envelope from his pocket, the one Kate had left for him in her piles of legal documents. He traced the seal with his finger and decided it had to be opened, in case it included specific instructions. Ripping it open, he found a neatly typed message inside. The date at the top of the paper was just over a year earlier.

_House-_

_I always tell you, if you feel like you are falling apart, think through what your next ten steps would be after popping the pills...see if it's really worth it. I'm going to sort of revise, and I'm going tell you what your next ten steps are going to be after I die, so you don't even have to think about them, because, as I'm sure you know, I'm much smarter than you. _

_-Call Millway's Crematorium. They have all of my instructions, you don't have to make any decisions or pay for anything_

_-I left you all of my stuff. Don't hold onto anything unless you want it. It's just stuff_

_-Do NOT let anyone have a funeral for me. Have a party at the bar and give away some free booze, you cheap bastard_

_-Get your fucking license back and go cure someone. You know you want to_

_-Find that woman you're so pathetically enamored with and treat her the way you wished you had treated her when you had her. You'll regret it if you don't_

_-Make sure she knows how she made you feel too, about everything, or it'll fester in you and eventually sabotage whatever you work for  
><em>

_-After you get that woman to talk to you, and you __will__ persist until she caves, be nice to her kid, even when she's watching you_

_-Once you are happy, and you __will__ be happy, don't ever doubt that you deserve every moment of it_

_-Stay the fuck away from the pills. Seriously, it's too much work to quit again, and you can't afford the damage it will do to you_

_-Follow the instructions on this list, and be OK, so I don't have to feel guilty for leaving you_

His eyes were filled with tears. Even in the event of her death, Kate was prepared to help him deal with what he was going through. After a few short years of friendship, he found it almost impossible to imagine life without her. How much had changed since she wrote that? Rachel was dead. He had found Cuddy, or at least, she found him, and he didn't run away from her. And he was treating her the way he wished he had…for the most part. She was treating him well in return and he had been honest about how some of her actions made him feel. He was getting his license back. It was as if all of the things Kate wished for on his behalf were sitting just at his fingertips and he felt a strange sense of accomplishment.

In the back of his mind, there would always be that chronic reminder, like persistent white noise, telling him that the Vicodin was there waiting for him. Simple, easily available, familiar Vicodin, which he had reached for year after year, his crutch, and eventually, in part, his downfall. Sitting there, watching his friend teeter so near death, the white noise amplified and clarified until he could unmistakably hear the call, the invitation to return. He could feel the way the powdery exterior would stick to his tongue before disappearing and remember the exact sensations of when its effects would _first_ reach his bloodstream, the excitement with which his body would respond, as if he had just taken his last pill yesterday.

The call was unmistakable, the decision undeniable: he heard Kate's advice…after the pill, what would you do next, what are the next ten steps for you? He knew the steps he wanted to take in his life. But, if he took the pills, he wouldn't go to Cuddy, she didn't deserve that. He knew he wouldn't be present enough for Kate, and if she were to survive, she'd not only be disappointed in him, she'd be angry with herself, so he'd probably disappear from her life too, at one of the few times she actually needed him. Then the spiral would hit harder and faster than ever before, and he knew the options were detox, insanity, or death …he wasn't ready for any of those outcomes. The call, though still present, though ever present, would go unheeded.

He was instantly filled with regret at his decision to send Cuddy away. She needed to be there with him, and with Kate…she belonged. Cuddy seemed to be finally accepting him as he was, while he was accepting her as she was. Interestingly, when the two had finally decided to accept each other without underlying expectations of change, both of them actually changed, just a little, small shifts, with gigantic results.

He rubbed his leg as the throbbing increased with each passing moment. He wasn't sure what to do about Kate and was acutely aware of the magnitude and permanence of his decision. He also couldn't believe Cuddy actually left when he asked her to, she actually respected his wishes enough to let go of the situation and allow him to follow whatever course of action he needed to take.

At the same time, he was reminded of how strange the absence of Cuddy felt. He had grown accustomed to having her near him, and his solitude seemed strange. He felt an ache in his gut when he realized that at any moment, the only two people in his life that he really cared about could potentially be gone, and he'd be completely, entirely alone and unloved. While the more detached part of his brain scoffed at the thought that he'd crave either love or companionship, he knew he'd become happily accustomed to both.

Kate really liked Cuddy, he knew she could see how good they were for each other. Suddenly, as these huge decisions might have to be made, he felt that Cuddy belonged by his side. The weight of his emotions and the situation felt utterly crushing. Something about having Cuddy's support made him believe that his sadness, and even devastation, could be survivable.

He was suddenly concerned that she may be reminded of why he infuriated her. Was she sitting at home remembering all of the negative things about the two of them being together? Was she doubting their renewed bond?

Kate's best TA, the same one that he had sent crying from his office weeks earlier, walked into the room and stopped in her tracks when she saw him.

"Busy today?" he asked her.

"Not really, I'll come back later," she said, turning promptly to leave in order to distance herself from him.

"Hang on, I have a job for you. And I promise, you won't have to see me pretty much the entire time you do it."

"What?" she said folding her arms.

"You're Kate's favorite, so you must not be a complete moron. Keep an eye on her for me, I have to go do something."

"I have rounds tonight."

"I'll be back by then, call me if _anything_ happens," he said, handing her the notepad from Kate's bedside with his cell number.

With that he slipped from the room and went downstairs. His next problem was finding a way to get to Cuddy. He thought about calling her, but he knew it would be harder for her to ignore him if he were actually at her house, on her doorstep requesting entry, and he needed to do something to see her, not sit by waiting for her to return. He made his way down to the lobby where the valet, Celia, stood directing all of those who worked for her parking and retrieving cars.

"You don't look good, son," she said sweetly. "I heard about Dr. Vega. I also saw your girlfriend leaving this morning, she didn't look so good either."

"Yea. Need my car."

"Sure, I'll send someone for you, where'd you park?"

"Jersey"

"That's a bit further than the parking garage."

"Well, I need to get to Baltimore. Have to go make nice with the woman, so first, I need a car."

Celia nodded, "That's a problem if your car's in Jersey."

"You have someone extra on staff today that I can 'borrow' for a little while to get me back home to my car?"

"You know I can't do that," she said, her tone soft but critical.

"OK," he said, looking around, trying to think of an alternative.

"I can't let you go anywhere with your leg acting up like that, you don't look like you can drive," she said as she pulled the stool from behind her desk and directed him to it.

She picked up her radio, "I need someone to cover the desk for a few hours, I think I'm coming down with some sort of virus or something," she said, smiling at House. "Someone stop and bring my car around before they come up to take my spot."

"You're gonna take me home?" he asked doubtfully.

"Oh no. No way. I'm taking you to Baltimore. You go fix whatever you messed up and if I'm driving you there's no excuses!"

After the long drive, Celia waited patiently while House made his way to Cuddy's door. She saw the woman hug him, but waited for the signal. She hoped this wasn't their goodbye. When House turned and waved, and the woman started to pull him into her home, Celia whispered enthusiastically, "Yes," as she drove away.

* * *

><p>After House and Cuddy had chatted briefly and napped, at her home, he woke her to go back to the hospital.<p>

When they arrived, nothing had changed in Kate's condition. Cuddy went to speak to the administrator, to make sure all of Kate's leave paperwork was in place. House stared at Kate once again in the room alone with her and he knew it was time to make a decision. He walked out into the hall and spoke to the nurse, "Hey, tell Dr. Whoever that I want her off of the ventilator."

"OK sir, I'll call him and see if he can meet with you later on today to discuss, he's busy right now, and your situation isn't an emergency."

"No problem," he said with exaggerated tolerance as he walked back into the room. When Cuddy walked back into the room, House was standing over Kate, "Hold this would ya?" he said as he removed the surgical tape that was around her mouth.

"Shouldn't you wait for her doctor?" Cuddy asked, her nervousness apparent although she tried to sound calm.

"I remember how to do this."

"I didn't mean that…we don't have the equipment ready, if you remove that, and she can't breathe on her own…"

"I know," he said decisively.

She placed a hand on his back reassuringly before walking to the other side of the bed, "Ready," she said, knowing that he had summoned all of his strength to arrive at that moment, and understanding the compulsion he had to see it through. She wasn't sure what he would do if Kate's body didn't react and begin to work on its own.

House worked quickly to remove the tube, smirking for a split second when he heard Kate gag while they removed the tubes. "Gag reflex," Cuddy said happily at the indicator that Kate was indeed in a coma and not brain dead.

They waited for a moment, which felt like eternities, when Kate's chest rose, "We have spontaneous respiration," he said with a small sense of victory as he monitored the newly repaired lung that had been punctured by a bullet.

The nurse returned to the room to find House and Cuddy sitting in chairs next to the bed, the tubes removed from Kate's mouth, ventilator off.

"How dare you!" she yelled, walking over to him.

"It's OK, I hooked up her oxygen," he said calmly as he pointed to the thin clear tubes delivering oxygen to Kate's nostrils.

"That doesn't help her _actually_ breathe!"

"Really?" He said dramatically, adding with great sarcasm, "I just thought it looked so much better than that ugly tube shoved in her mouth, am I embarrassed! I'll know for next time."

"You can't just do whatever you want, whenever you want to!"

"I was helping. Since the doctor was far too busy, I took care of it for him, but I'll let you know if she codes."

The nurse threw her hands in the air as she left to call the doctor, and possibly security. Kate was breathing on her own.

When the doctor arrived in the room minutes later he was exasperated, "What in the hell do you think you're doing? What if she wasn't able to breathe without the ventilator?"

"Then I guess we either would have hooked her back up or she would have died," he answered calmly.

"Here's my cell number," he said, handing House his card. "Just call me before you decide to carry out any more executive orders."

A short while later, House's heart nearly stopped when Jeff, Lucy's fiancé walked through the door. He wasn't sure how much Jeff knew, if he had anything to do with Kate's current condition, or if he was there to seek revenge. His mind raced for what measures he should take to prevent whatever was about to happen.

Cuddy sat in a corner, reading over some leave information and doing paperwork on Kate's behalf, and didn't notice when the man entered the room. When she saw him, House watched as her mind registered who the man was, and could see the sense of panic settling in over her as well.

House was trying to get his leg to cooperate enough to stand when he heard Jeff speak. "Oh my god, poor Kate! Don't get up, Buddy," he said to House, slapping him on the shoulder, his voice clearly concerned as he went to Kate's side.

House and Cuddy exchanged brief, somewhat confused, glances, as the man they expected would be openly hostile was genuinely concerned. "Is she gonna be OK?" he asked.

House shrugged and shook his head with uncertainty.

"Too bad about you and Lucy…you…could do better anyway," House said after Jeff had been there a few minutes.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Lucy…"

"Oh Lucy's fine man, she just went to work, I snuck in to check on Kate. She's always been such a great friend. I just swung in quickly though, I gotta go. Lucy didn't want me stopping in here bothering you or the doctors, but, I couldn't stay away. I'll probably be in again tomorrow, if that's OK?"

"Oh yea," House said, "Look give me your number, I can call you if there's any change," more interested in the number so he had it for future use than out of an actual willingness to provide status updates.

"That would be great, thanks!" Jeff said enthusiastically.

When Jeff left the room, House and Cuddy exchanged glances again. Both heard Kate say, quite clearly, during her argument with House, that Lucy had broken off the engagement. House said, deep in thought, "I guess the question is…who's the liar: Kate or Lucy?"

His leg was still aching. He tried to get comfortable in his chair and he tried to pace, but nothing seemed to help. Cuddy disappeared for a moment, returning with disposable therapeutic heat packs. "It's not a hot bath, but it's something," she said as she lifted his leg onto the edge of Kate's bed and rubbed it vigorously for a moment before placing several of them carefully along the sore area.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Why are you being so nice to me?" he said with feigned suspicion.

"It's definitely not because I like you," she said, smirking. "Are we gonna sleep here tonight?"

"Yea, I want to stay for at least for the next 24 hours."

She kissed his cheek and turned to walk away when she felt his hand on her wrist. "Thank you, for coming back. Really, I… needed you here."

"Any time," she said, as she pulled another large chair over toward his.

* * *

><p>House felt his foot twitching at the tiniest tickle just above his ankle. "Would you stop!" He said angrily in the direction of his foot, irritated that Cuddy would wake him when he had so little sleep.<p>

When the tickling didn't cease, he looked down at his ankle. It wasn't Cuddy's fingers tickling him. It was Kate's. "You guys can't quit the kink for ten seconds out of respect for the dead," Kate said, barely able to vocalize and pointing toward Cuddy, who was sleeping awkwardly with her knees on her own chair and her head on House's lap.

"You should have seen all the stuff we did before you woke up. You fell on the floor once or twice, but we picked you back up when we were done," he teased. House's face was consumed by a full grin, both surprised and happy to see his friend alert. He was filled with a sense of delight that was undeniable to hear words from someone he had all but taken for dead. "You look…like shit"

She winced trying to swallow on a dry raw throat. "They tube me?"

"Yea"

"Damn I hurt!"

"I've been shot before, and I survived, don't be such a sissy."

"I have a horrible fucking headache too."

"You're gonna, for a while," he said. He noticed that she was moving, but none of the movement was coming from her right side, indicating that there could be damage from a bullet fragment that had hit the motor strip in the left side of her brain.

"Cuddy," House said, tapping her head, "Wake up, our little princess is back amongst the living."


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N-**_Morning! Thanks so much to all of those who have read and reviewed:Housebound, Jane Q. Doe, Josam, TheHouseWitch, JLCH, JamHuddyFan, jkarr, IHeartHouseCuddy, IWuvHouse, dmarchl, ClareBear14, Bakerstreet Blues (fantastic speculation), CaptainK8, KiwiClare, Mon Fogel, harpomarx, Abby, HuddyGirl and Alex._

**Disclaimer-** _I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>Kate's progress over the next few days was steady, although her right side was significantly weaker, she began physical therapy and was slowly progressing. The brain surgery that was necessary left her weakened, and her activities harshly restricted, but simple exercises and assisted walking were parts of her daily routine.<p>

House returned to work, visiting during breaks and before and after hours, while Cuddy spent her days mostly by Kate's side or occasionally assisting with business at the bar. After nearly a week of recovery, things were going well, although House and Cuddy were exhausted caring for their recovering friend.

"Hey Zipperhead," House said as he walked in with his dinner to chat with Kate.

"Could ya stop walking on eggshells," she answered sarcastically, as he flopped down in the chair nearest her, flinging a container of dessert up onto her table.

"I understand in about three weeks I'll be officially back to doctoring."

"Really? You finally renewed?"

"Yup."

"That's awesome, I thought you gave up."

"What happened?" he asked, pointing at his head in a reference to her injuries, frustrated that she hadn't entrusted him with that information yet.

"Random thing."

"You have the gift of gab on any other subject. I ask you about this and I get 'random thing'? Police report says robbery…"

"Nothing to say. When do you guys leave for Tahiti, only a few more days, right?"

"Not going."

"Why not?"

"Cuddy and I talked. We're postponing."

"That's stupid."

"It isn't. There's stuff to do."

"You're not going because of me!"

"No," he said, obviously lying.

"The staff at the bar, the manager can handle stuff there. I'm good here, I have plenty of help…I'm in the freakin hospital…24-hour care…don't need you guys babysitting me. Maybe after I get out, but that won't be for a few weeks yet."

"No."

"Oh come on, don't make me feel like I'm doing that to you guys."

"Maybe. What happened, who shot you?"

"Ra…"

"If you finish saying the word 'random' we won't leave your side for the next two years. Ever. Tell me the truth and our happy asses will be on an airplane in a few days, leaving you to try your luck with the nurses completely uninterrupted."

"You're annoying."

"Not the answer to my question."

"I don't want you to get involved."

"OK, I won't."

"You said you wouldn't get involved before…"

"What. Happened?"

Kate's entire demeanor changed, she lowered her gaze and spoke softly, "Don't mention this shit again, I want to put it behind me."

His expression became serious, as he could see by her actions how difficult this was for her to discuss, and he nodded his agreement to her terms.

"I went to see Lucy after she called. She told me some guy was giving her a hard time, she was scared… I got there…and realized that perhaps she wasn't being entirely honest. Lucy and I argued. I found out she and Jeff never really broke up. The guy that she was scared of came back. I told her I'd handle it for her if she never spoke to me again. She agreed. Then the fucker pulled out a gun. You were right. I was wrong...she never loved me and I'm a fucking moron. Is that what you were waiting to hear?"

Kate's eyes were downcast, House could see she was frustrated and embarrassed by her decisions, waiting for him to remind her just how much of a mistake she had made.

"You took a bullet for that bitch?" he said, ignoring her questions and trying to lighten the mood.

"Two. Pretty fierce, huh?" she said with a somewhat happier tone before returning to more serious matters, "But it means I finally figured it out…and I'll never speak to her again."

"You 'handled' the guy with the gun?"

"Yea"

"Remind me never to call you in for hostage negotiations."

Kate giggled quietly. Her face was slowly beginning to look like hers again. Bruises were yellowing and fading after being dark purple, and she had a faint shadow of hair across her head, with a large, slowly healing incision. Cuddy walked into the room, now spending her days in the hospital dressed comfortably in jeans and sneakers as she often spent her time working to help Kate with therapy.

"Hey gorgeous!" Cuddy said, and both of them answered.

"I was talking to Kate, this time," Cuddy said.

"Funny, now that I can barely walk and I look like the star of a horror movie, she flirts back," Kate said wryly.

"She likes the infirmed. Brain surgery, gunshot wounds, disabilities, she thinks that's hot. For our anniversary I'm going to throw myself in front of a moving vehicle," House answered.

"You guys are leaving for vacation in a few days, so you better take advantage of my weakened state now if you want me," Kate said to Cuddy.

"Oh, we aren't going."

"We are," House answered.

"No…we aren't!" Cuddy said as she arranged food on Kate's table.

"Yes…we are!"

"I think we decided this was a bad time to go…" Cuddy answered, growing testy.

"We did, I made an agreement and now we're going. Pack your bikini, we leave in a few days."

"Tomorrow, House, I know you're off. Go, get stuff ready. If I see either of you in here, I'll call security, claim harassment. If you want me to feel better, stop acting like I need babysitters," Kate pleaded.

"Fine," Cuddy said as she flopped onto the bed, sitting next to Kate so the two of them could enjoy their dinner.

After House left, Cuddy looked at Kate while she was finishing her dinner and asked, "I saw in your paperwork you had him listed as next of kin?"

"I was raised by a man who was not my biological father. I have no idea who my biological father was. My dad…was an amazing guy, I was very lucky. When I found out House didn't know who his father was either…became a joke that it was probably the same guy."

Cuddy nodded, staring ahead.

* * *

><p>She found him waiting for her in Kate's office. He pulled Cuddy in front of him with a suggestive look, "We're alone, together."<p>

"I'm exhausted," she said, smiling before pulling away.

"No…you're not!"

"I am!"

"No, you're not. If you're turning down sex, you're either really, really exhausted or pissed off, and you don't look really, really exhausted. So what did I do wrong?"

"Nothing!"

"I did something, which is confusing because I didn't really even see you today. So you found out something from Kate."

"It's no big deal."

"Why don't you tell me _what's_ no big deal…" he said as he pulled her close so he could watch her expression when she answered without flitting away.

"We were just talking about how you guys are related..."

He nodded, watching her, "Right…that's very funny, and I'm still not sure what I did wrong."

"I told you. You didn't do anything wrong."

He stared at her, brow furrowed, waiting for her to speak again.

"Look, I just don't get why you don't tell me certain things," she added.

"Like what?"

"Like about your father."

"You call me a bastard all of the time, I assumed you knew," he joked until she started to walk away. "Wait, don't walk away. What the hell? I thought you knew, years ago."

"I did. Because _Wilson_ told me."

"OK…"

"_You_ didn't tell me."

"Do you really want me to go back and re-tell you everything that Wilson already told you?"

"No…" she laughed slightly. "For you, that just seems like really pertinent information."

"For me?"

"Genes matter, right? Isn't that what you told me?"

"Definitely, and it's true, they matter. They just aren't_ all_ that matters. Genes are… the hand you're dealt. But, what you decide to do when the flop, turn and river are dealt…that's up to you."

She smiled momentarily and her face grew serious again, "So is adoption cheating or not?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Answer the question."

"I never said that."

"Not in so many words…but…"

"Remind me to call Wilson…and find out what other of my words he twisted into his own interpretation…"

"I just wanted to know…if you felt that way about me and Rachel…maybe…I don't know."

He looked at her, with a completely baffled expression, "That…is really screwed up…"

He looked irritated for a moment and then his expression softened, "With 'help' like his, no wonder we failed. I'll admit I had a rough time adjusting, and I said things that I probably shouldn't have, but that's not what I was thinking while we were together. Certainly felt real enough to me…I was there while you were mothering. _That's_ why you have to watch out for certain meddling blabbermouths."

"He meant well."

"Whatever he 'meant', you spent our entire relationship thinking that I thought you weren't really her mother? You could have asked."

"Crap…my phone," she said as she felt her pockets, "I left my phone in Kate's room. I need to go get it before we can leave. Don't want to miss another call from my mother and get police attention. I'll be right back."

"OK," he responded, startled by the abrupt end of the conversation.

Cuddy walked back to Kate's room, found the phone and wished her friend goodnight. When she walked back into the hallway, Lucy was walking down the hall toward the room.

Cuddy offered her a wide, phony smile, "Hey Luce! So great to see you!" she said, as she felt the anger rising in her chest.

"Hi…" Lucy answered, confused.

"I think it would be a really good idea, for you to leave now."

"I just wanted to ask Kate about something…"

"Think…she doesn't need bothered right now…or ever."

"What's your deal?"

"My _deal, _is that Kate is my friend, and to be honest, I'm tired of watching her get hurt by you."

"You don't understand the situation."

"I don't? Really?" Cuddy felt her anger swelling. "I have had enough of this situation…honestly. Have a little bit of respect for the people you involve in your messed life. You sit there, pretending to love people, and then you treat them like disposable objects. You _flaunt_ your relationships in front of those you're toying with, without even the slightest concern for how that might make them feel! You _manipulate_ them into doing what you want, then when you decide when it's inconvenient for you, you just wash your hands of them. You can't just pick up and drop people without the slightest…without the slightest…"

Cuddy's face grew pale as she stuttered, while Lucy looked on, shocked. Cuddy began to walk away, feeling the need to get back to House, and then she regrouped her thoughts. Turning back to Lucy she said, "I know you were there when Kate was shot. From the police report I can tell that you weren't entirely honest. If you don't want obstruction charges, I'd disappear. Obstruction. Charges. That would lead to further investigation…do you want that?"

Lucy nodded. "You are such a bitch!" she sneered before marching down the hall.

* * *

><p>House was sitting at Kate's desk, legs crossed at the ankles on the edge of the desk, while he built a tower with pencils and an empty coffee cup. Cuddy entered the room without a word, walked over to him, lifted the arm that was resting in his lap, and sat down.<p>

"Look, I…" He began, but was interrupted when her lips covered his.

She was persistent and forceful, placing the hand she had removed from his lap onto her thigh and cradling his face in her hands to keep him as close as possible. He breathed into her, sitting up slightly to get nearer, surprised that the woman who moments earlier was voicing discontent was sitting on his lap kissing him with such need and promise. She heard a scarcely audible groan in his throat as he slid a hand up her thigh and used the other arm to pull her closer. Her tongue played enticingly against his lips, overwhelming his senses and clearing his mind of nearly all thoughts but her. He pulled back just enough to speak, "Damn," he rasped, pursuing the kiss a moment more before asking, "You lock the door?"

She shook her head 'no' and he playfully patted her ass, "Go lock it."

She ignored his request, trying to commit to memory everything about the feeling of kissing him, concerned that he may come to his senses and this would be their last encounter. Something about her made him forget everything, his anger, his obligations, his sadness…even his pain, and certainly locked doors. He was lost in her again, pulling her into him more insistently, until one tear fell down her cheek and rolled over her lips. When the salty taste registered in his brain, he shook his head with surprise as he backed away, "What happened?" he asked, voice filled with concern.

She shook her head and placed it on his shoulder, but didn't speak. "Cuddy…what's wrong?"

He heard her sniffle and his mind began to assume the worst. "Just tell me," he asked with growing concern. "A few minutes ago, I couldn't figure out why you were pushing me away, then you left, you return and you're practically ravishing me and now you're crying? What's with the mood coaster?"

Her lips were against the scruffiness of his neck, "I…do not deserve you."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, tightening his grip on her as his concern receded.

"How different am I from Lucy?"

His eyes squinted as he thought of the appropriate response. But she mercifully continued, "I…treated you like you were disposable…manipulated you while we were together to try to get you to conform to what I wanted… When things went wrong I dropped you without discussion or thought, acted like you didn't even have feelings… After everything, I dumped you and left you standing alone in your doorway hurt and confused. I'm so…very sorry… You thought you weren't good enough for me, and that's…complete crap…"

She lifted her head to look at him, "I really screwed up, I never appreciated you, and then…later on, when I was alone and completely fucked up…I actually came to you again…expected you to look out for me, help me…and what right did I have?"

"I could have said no when you showed up," he said, running his hand along her back.

She sat back, so she could look in his eyes and tell him, "I'm so sorry for all of the pain…I caused you…for manipulating you…for expecting that you change, not just a little…but so very much… I have…no right…to expect you to stay with me, and I had no right to come back to you and expect that you support me when my life collapsed."

Momentarily she could see him registering the pain, reconsidering the moments she had hurt him, and he said, softly, "Thank you," followed by a quick, tiny smile.

"I don't honestly see the difference between Lucy and I …at all…"

"That's exactly what I thought…about me…with her whole…wedding thing," he responded, "but Lucy, is…the worst of both of us, rolled up into one reprehensible, selfish human being. The difference between you and Lucy…between us and Lucy, is that she is just selfish…and she doesn't care that she is. She won't, down the line, develop a conscience about these things that she's done. You and I…we're just fucked up… We find ourselves saying things, doing things…but…we don't _want_ to be fucked up...we don't want all of our baggage. We don't want to hurt each other, we just do..."

"I expected so much of you…I guess I still do…"

He looked away for a moment, composing his thoughts on his own without looking into her eyes, so he could be certain of what he was saying. "I…was hurt. Deeply...like I never had been before. And I was very angry with you…but…" he looked back at her, "I'm glad you came back."

"I would understand if you…needed to end this…because…_I_...am the most screwed up person in the world."

He watched her as she struggled, the strange echo of his own words from years earlier rattling in his head, the complicated dynamic between them coming full circle with the realization that they were _both_ such incomplete human beings.

"We'll have to share the title," he smirked gently, "We're...screwed up, damaged people, that…want to make sure that the fact that we're screwed up and damaged doesn't ruin what we have. The fact that we're like this…trying…says something. The fact that we feel like shit for the things that we've done…speaks volumes…"

"I am trying, and I feel so lucky to have you…so lucky that, after everything, you were willing to be there for me even when you had absolutely nothing to gain."

"I had something to gain," he said calmly.

He sat there with her for a few moments, thinking about how shocked he was that she seemed to fully comprehend that she _was_ every bit as flawed and damaged as he was. He felt less alone in the world…less fucked up to know that someone else out there was not only as messed up as he was, but acknowledged it as well.


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N-**_ I've been back and forth for days about whether I want to post this portion of the story or edit it out. _I'm a bit nervous, but w_henever I consider avoiding this particular plotline, I feel like I'm leaving out what I consider to be an important element of the story. So much of what is in here involves working through their history…this is part of my take on it. I'm sure countless writers have extrapolated information from the little that is known and created wonderful stories about this topic…this is just how I see it._

_I wanted to split this chapter into two, but couldn't find a spot I was comfortable with, so it's long. I probably won't post again until Monday late or Tuesday. Please review if you're inspired to.  
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_Thank you so much to everyone who continues to read this story, particularly for the reviewers since the last time: JLCH, TheHouseWitch, CaptainK8, ClareBear14, Lynnie5267, southpaw2, Alex, housebound, Mon Fogel, Abby, HuddyGirl, Irina, Josam, Anna, Boo's House, bonneiyy77, dmarchl, and lenasti16. It's so fantastic to have people to share this with.  
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**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter contains adult content, which is marked, between the "*".  
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* * *

><p>House was absolutely giddy the morning they were supposed to leave for their trip. He woke her, shaking her arm and whispering in her ear, "Time to run a-wa-ay."<p>

They had a flight from Newark to Los Angeles, where they would wait for a second flight to French Polynesia the following day. A break in between flights, with a bed and room to stretch out, was important to avoid travel fatigue and give House's leg a much needed respite from the cramped conditions of an airplane, although he did purchase first class seats. Cuddy stared out the balcony door overlooking LA, swaying slightly to the music playing in the background on the TV.

House clattered into the room behind her, carrying a bag of ice, with a fifth of whiskey tucked under one arm. When she turned, he offered a contented half smile.

"Standing there, like that...you look like you did in school," she said, biting her lower lip.

"Kinda doubt that..."

"It's the facial expression...and the booze…"

His face, and hers as well, looked ages younger just since leaving Jersey, as the stress of the last few weeks, the tension of life, had begun disappearing from the moment, and it was just the two of them again. They had been looking forward to this trip, to their own opportunity to run away from it all. He put the bottle and the ice down on the desk and walked over to her, looking up and off to one side in the air, as he tried to access memories from earlier lifetimes. He glanced over her face, taking in the way she looked, and settling his gaze on her eyes.

"Are you even old enough to drink?" he asked her, waiting to see if the memory was as accessible to her as it was to him.

She smiled sweetly, surprised that he had filed this information away in his mind. "In practice, yes…legally...not so much..."

* * *

><p><em><span>-Michigan, 1989-<span>_

He overheard her plans for the evening as easily as she had overheard his, each speaking purposefully within the other's earshot before class. They'd established a tradition on Monday, Wednesday and Fridays after each 1pm class. A few glances here and there, and when she'd leave her seat, second row from the front, third seat from center, always the same, she'd walk past him in his seat, and just barely catch and hold his gaze as she'd side-step by.

He was determined not to get involved with an uptight undergrad, she was determined not to deal with an over-confident med student, and yet each Monday, Wednesday and Friday, as she'd leave, their gazes would hold seconds longer than they had before, and that last day, she could have sworn his lips turned up in a faint smile.

She was at the party for nearly an hour, and hadn't seen him anywhere. She was looking, subtly of course, but she knew she would feel his gaze on her long before she would see it. She quickly pounded down a drink when she first arrived, and then danced with friends, eschewing the advances of a classmate, whom she imagined vomiting up his libations within the following hour or two, all over the unlucky girl who would happen to be dancing with him at the time.

She had just resigned herself to looking around for someone else, since it seemed _he_ wouldn't show, when she felt the tingle of his gaze on the back of her neck. She turned to confirm his presence, under the guise of dancing with her friend, and he was there, in exactly the place where she had thought he would be. He stood near enough to a group of other med students in an attempt to be inconspicuous. She laughed silently at the thought that he could ever be inconspicuous to her.

She left the dance floor, walking past the group he was standing with, swaying her hips enticingly and avoiding his gaze, in the hopes that he would think she didn't notice his presence. She walked out to the coolers and kegs for another drink, looking back and feeling disappointment set in when she realized he didn't follow her.

She stood there by the drinks, alone, hips tilted, one hand on her waist and one clutching a cup, as she tried to decide what to do. Should she show her interest, risking what she thought would certainly be a very public rejection, for the chance to talk to the one guy she couldn't seem to forget about? She had no trouble finding dates or sex, but found her thoughts and fantasies included him, someone she barely knew.

When he arrived at the party he knew exactly where she'd be, and she didn't disappoint him. He saw how she tried to appear sexier, more flirtatious, once she noticed him, and he didn't deny her success. He watched as she pretended to dance around a friend, just to turn in his direction, and hoped it was because she was looking for him. When she swaggered past him toward the drinks, hips swaying, body on display, trying to pretend she didn't notice him, he knew if he wanted the opportunity, it was the time.

She rummaged through one of the coolers, bent at the waist when she heard his voice, the first words he had spoken directly to her in weeks. "Why are you pretending to ignore me?"

"I'm not _ignoring _you!" she answered, as she stood up and turned around to face him.

"Oh, I know. That's why I said _pretending_ to ignore me," he smirked, for the first time ever, completely looking over her form while she watched him. He spared no curve or line, moving methodically from her feet up to her face, inhaling deeply, as his face took on a thoughtful expression. She didn't tense or attempt to avoid his scrutiny, and it made her all the more attractive to him.

"Take your time…" she said, confidently, "not like I had anything else to do…"

He smirked at her, walking past, just a bit too close, to get a drink for himself.

"You…had some serious balls correcting Cohen today…he really liked you...until then," he said, referring to her public correction of their professor's error during an earlier lecture.

"He was wrong."

"I agree. But you chose to tell him that, in front of everyone…probably drawing more scrutiny to your work than if you just would have let it go."

"He was _wrong_. He completely fed 130-some students the wrong information…"

"Who cares what they know. You know the right answer, let the rest of them figure it out for themselves."

"Not how I operate."

"Those balls you exhibited, they are just figurative, right?"

"Are you implying that I'm a man?" she giggled, looking him over, using the same unapologetic leer with which he had observed her.

"I'm putting my money on figurative...your clothes leave very little to the imagination."

"I guess if you're just here to indulge your curiosity, I'll go back out there."

He stood in front of her, slowing, but not preventing, her exit.

"You wanna dance?" she said, stepping closer, unwilling to be intimidated by him.

He looked around, hesitant to accept her invitation. She stepped even closer, took hold of his arm just below the elbow, slid her hand down slowly until it was in his, and pulled him back toward the other dancing partiers.

Years later they wouldn't remember what songs played, or how many songs played, which is reasonable, however, even if they had been asked ten minutes after dancing, neither of them could have named a single song they'd heard that night.

Once they were in position, she moved closer, scarcely touching him, but he could feel her against him nonetheless. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and stretching her body to its greatest height. His hands first made contact at her waist, at the point just above her hips, and slid with faint precision around to her back until his thumbs met and his fingers stretched out fully, fingertips just below the small of her back. She was perfectly curved, taut in the right places, and just soft enough to the touch to make her feel perfect.

She swiveled within his grasp, inching closer, until she was more fully against him, so he could feel the rise and fall of her breathing, her thighs brushing against his. This was their first touch. Never before had their brief games of eye contact ever led to actual physical touch, where the warmth of the other was sensed, registered and appreciated. She ran one hand from the back of his neck to his chest, laying it against him, feeling the dips between his ribs beneath her fingertips. He was tall, lean and effortlessly muscular, and she loved the feeling of him against her. He held her against him loosely, allowing her to dance, to act against him, but not reacting to her attention, until he felt her knee wedge between his, her body moving in clearly provocative ways. His hands slid down only a fraction of a space lower, but his grip tightened, pulling her small body closer. Now that the contact was made, he was unwilling to relinquish even the slightest amount of it.

He leaned down and she tilted her head to hear his words. When he drew close to her ear, his lips hovered just above the skin on her neck. "Want to go outside?" he asked.

She looked up at him, nodding with a smirk. They worked their way out of the building through the crowd, struck by the quiet of the night when the door closed and the noise was muted by the building itself. They walked further away from the revelry, close, but not touching, to sit on a nearby stone wall. "Hurst, right?"

He smirked, "Please! You know my name."

She sat on the wall next to him and they spoke about their class, about exciting cases, about their career plans. After a few moments she stood up from her spot seated on the wall. She looked around, carefully considering her next steps. When they left the party, she was certain that he'd be all over her the moment they were alone. She had pleasantly exciting images of him pinning her against the wall outside of the building in a darkened spot, yet here he sat, talking about cases and career moves.

She stepped forward, close to his knees, as he pulled out a fifth of whiskey from his jacket and handed it to her, but quickly withdrew the bottle before she could partake. "Are you even old enough to drink?"

"I have reached the age where I am capable…so…in practice, yes," she said, as she pulled the bottle from his hand, took a hefty swig, made a face at the strength of the beverage, and continued, "but, legally drinking _alcohol_…is a slightly different story."

His eyes were looking her over again, as he started to put the bottle down, and hesitated, "Just to be sure, you are old enough to vote though…right?"

"Most definitely."

"If I'm going to break laws, I like to know which ones I'm breaking," he joked, looking toward the wall while he placed his bottle down, finding her standing between his bent legs, leaning in to kiss him in a way that made his heart clench and lurch in his chest, feeling an immediate pull toward her.

His hands were propped on the wall on either side of him, passively, as she again was the aggressor. Her kisses were fast and lusty and obviously designed to test his intent and help progress things between them.

She stopped, realizing that he wasn't pulling her in or touching her, but was just allowing her to kiss him. "Sorry," she said, as she backed away, mistaking his inaction for disinterest.

"Don't be…I'm not," he answered, as he slid off of the wall and turned them around, grasping her ass in his hands and pulling her tightly against him, although only momentarily, before dropping her onto the wall where he was seated seconds earlier.

He took her face in one hand, tilting it, and slowly, deeply kissing her, with the thoroughness one would employ when trying to really learn someone else, when trying to demonstrate to them the efforts that could be put forth to guarantee mutual satisfaction.

She gasped, moaning softly, completely aroused by his attention and lost in his kiss, finally receiving the attention from him that she craved. Her legs wrapped around him and pulled him tightly to her. She wriggled against him and he said, his voice firm with an undertone of reproach, "Slow down."

She returned to the kiss, again trying to increase the pace, when he reached out, touched her face again and said, "I'm not going to do this out here on a wall. Been thinking about this since you waltzed into class at the beginning of the semester and I've already decided you deserve more of my time…"

Her mouth was open as she panted against him, looking thoroughly confused. She certainly wasn't a novice, but it was clear, she was used to more hurried and utilitarian encounters from men closer to her own age, who were more interested in completion than process. Holding her face in his hand, he ran his thumb over her lips and looked into her eyes with intensity before kissing her with complete devotion to the task at hand. He ran his hands firmly down her hips to her thighs, pulling her legs tighter around him.

Working back toward her ear along her jawline, he listened to her sighs of approval, and began learning and committing to memory all of the things she enjoyed, the most sensitive spots. "Do you want to come to my room?" she asked, sighing.

"I'm guessing you have a roommate."

"She won't be back for a little while."

"My place is empty."

"OK," she answered, nodding while he helped her down off of the wall and took her hand to lead her in the right direction.

They said little during the five-minute walk, although it wasn't uncomfortable or rushed.

They walked up the steps at the front porch and he let her in, up to the third floor apartment. He offered her a drink, which she declined, standing in the space between the kitchen and the living room and watching him, learning about him through the space he inhabited.

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

He was walking past her when he stopped, faced her with a tiny smirk, and forced her against the wall. His hands were on her shoulders, no other direct contact made, and she was already breathing faster, looking up at him with eyes filled with want. "You sure?" he asked, hoping that she wouldn't decide to back down, but feeling that such a decision made further down the line would feel much worse.

"Yea, you?"

"Yea," he answered, as he moved his hands to her hips and tucked his fingers under the hem of her shirt to drag it up over her head, feeling the unbelievably soft skin beneath her shirt and revealing a flimsy piece of material that barely covered her full breasts, used more for its appearance than function. He pondered that scarcely a greater privilege could be bestowed on a lace and elastic garment while he removed it.

He exhaled his approval, stepping back to admire her before returning to his spot against her, his left hand wrapping around her back, and the right skimming along her stomach to her breast and roughly pinching her nipple. She didn't complain or pull away or seem startled, and as she groaned out her pleasure, he thought she might be the perfect woman. He didn't rush, but didn't waste time helping her out of the rest of her clothes, admiring each newly exposed piece of skin as it was revealed.

When he had finished removing her clothing, she stood in the brightness of the kitchen light, perfectly naked, while he studied her. She was brazen, completely unembarrassed and confident. There before him, exposed and vulnerable, he wondered if she was always so confident or just felt safe under his scrutiny.

She tried to pull his clothes off, reaching for his belt and he grabbed her hands, forcing them behind her back, pushing her breasts forward so he could taste them, alternating licks and nips with full, hard sucks, drawing her nipple deeply into his mouth and feeling her body growing impatient with need.

He stood fully upright, leaning against her, pressing her into the wall, and ran his fingers down to her knee to pull it up and over his hip. His fingers danced across her smooth, soft skin, moving toward her center with patience, building the moment for her. She was already wet and slick and when he ran his fingers along her opening up to her clit he could feel the subtle pulsings of her desire already. He rolled it against his thumb, just enjoying the extent of her arousal and the sounds she was making against him, the way her chest was rising and falling with increasing frequency. "God, please, I need…I need…" she mumbled, uncertain of even how to finish that sentence but knowing she needed some form of release before her body simply couldn't withstand the tension any more.

He pressed one long finger into her, never breaking the consistent swirling motions around her clit with his thumb. When she moaned again, pressing her pelvis down firmly against him, the evidence of her arousal coated his hand and with her unspoken approval, he added a second finger. He felt her tighten further as she came, felt her hips buck, her body kept near the edge for so long, that gyrations and moans and words of relief flowed naturally and willingly from her. "Fuck…more, Greg…please..." she said, pulling him near, her arms wrapped around his neck both to keep her upright and because having him so close felt amazing.

Her grip slackened as her aftershocks died down. He pressed a quick kiss against her lips and said, "Told you, you knew my name."

She smirked at him, pulling him closer to her and feeling his erection through his clothes against her stomach. Reaching for him to remove his pants, more than pleased with what she'd found, and surprised when he lifted her hands to his shirt to direct her toward removing that garment first. "You have a hot date later?" he asked.

"Hunh?" she asked, clearly confused by his question.

"Trying to figure out why you keep rushing."

She was embarrassed, naked, looking up shyly at him, and wishing she could turn the tables to regain some control in the situation. She pulled his shirt off and pressed herself against him, kissing his jaw and whispering, her voice throaty with desire, "I'm not ashamed to admit it, I want you inside of me…you not interested?"

He smirked at her playfulness, the unashamed, assertive way she flipped the tables. "I…am definitely interested, but…I want you to remember this."

Pulling her to the sofa and gently sitting her down, he quickly removed his remaining clothing and knelt on the floor in front of her, his hands running up her thighs, parting them steadily as he leaned in closer. She put a finger under his chin, "I don't think so…I'm just not into that."

He stopped moving closer, while running his fingers along her wetness, which had increased from her previous orgasm, trying to tempt her. "But, I'm definitely into that…"

She shrugged. "Sorry."

She shivered at the attention from his fingers, gasping, and surprised at just how badly she wanted him again. "How about this…you let me do _that_ for two minutes…as a favor to me…and if you don't like it, I'll stop then… It's not fair to deny me the opportunity based on the ineptitude of others."

"I guess…" she said, hesitantly.

Her hesitation disappeared and resistance was obliterated moments later as he devotedly licked and sucked her to a second orgasm, her hands pulling his face to her as her hips writhed against him.

"Yea, I can definitely tell you don't like that," he teased, as he sat on the sofa and pulled her against him.

"I guess I lied," she said between gasps, "I just…didn't realize I was lying." She giggled as she lay on top of him.

He was harder than he thought he had ever been, in that moment regretting his demands for her to exercise patience. He sat up, then stood from the sofa, with her wrapped around him, and carried her back into his room.

He put her down on the bed and grabbed condoms from his dresser, which she pulled roughly from his hand, forcing him onto his back. She ripped one package open, running her hand along his length, as if he needed encouragement, before rolling it on to him. He tried not to look at her, because his patience had taken its toll. "Well, I'm not disappointed," she said, flirtatiously.

"Never thought you would be," he answered, smirking with confidence.

"I want you, inside me, now," she said, with a demanding tone.

"Anything for you," he smiled, as he stood up, at this point his body so tense with arousal that he felt he could have lifted a truck to get to her. He took two steps toward the wall, reaching out one hand for balance as she wrapped her legs around him and guided him into her. She cried out, stretched and filled to a point nearing pain. He paused, not only for her, but to regain his focus. She was so tight around him he wondered if he'd be able to move. "Oh my god, Lisa, you feel…so amazing…" he mustered, his calm exterior cracking.

He moved her against the wall, hands forming a cradle beneath her as he began shallow movements, soon finding himself able to move as she held onto him. They were quick and passionate, his orchestration being forgotten in the race to finally have some release. He effortlessly held her in the air, using gravity to force her against him and biting at his lip trying to stave off his completion. She cried out, moaning his name in his ear the moment her orgasm began in force. He came, groaning with pleasure as her fingernails dug deeply into his skin, not in an attempt to heighten the moment, or mark him as her own, but because the sheer power of her pleasure caused her to hold on to the source in the hopes of never letting it go.

He dropped backwards onto the bed, the vibration of colliding with the furniture sending jolts through them both. They panted against each other, with him still inside her. She wriggled against him after a few moments, just as he thought he would fall asleep, and he found himself getting aroused again. He looked down, surprised at his own body's reaction to her so quickly after his last orgasm.

She smirked at him, kissing him as she pivoted slowly, testing his readiness. "Not bad for an old man," she teased. "Again?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Happens all of the time, I'm just that good…" he said, trying to sound self-assured.

"That's why you look like that…all surprised like you just opened a present…and found exactly what you wanted…"

"You…are extremely hot, that may have helped," he said, as she giggled. "Can I have your number?" he asked.

"Aren't you supposed to ask that in order to get me into the position I'm in now, instead of once you have me here?"

"Timing be damned," he quipped. "Wouldn't ask at all if I didn't want it," he answered, genuinely.

They enjoyed a slower round, bodies tired, having time to explore, flirt and tease their way to another orgasm.

"*"

* * *

><p>After another pre-dawn session he whispered to her, "I…like you…we <em>really<em> have to do this again."

"You don't have to say that," she answered, trying to be cool.

He looked at her, holding her gaze, "I would like to do this again, if you don't want to, just fucking say so, I'm a big boy I can handle it…you aren't the first gi…"

"OK," she interrupted, "I admit it, I'd like to see you again."

He smirked back at her, both of them cautious to avoid looking too weak or needy or interested, but able to sense interest from the other.

When she got out of bed in the morning he pulled her back in, "You don't have to go…and before you imply it…I'm not just saying that to be nice."

"I _do_ have to go," she said wrinkling her nose, "I have a class."

"So skip it this once."

"I…have never missed a class."

"Make an exception."

"I can't…but last night was so amazing…"

"OK...some other time."

"Definitely," she answered, reassuringly.

"How about…in a few hours?"

"Call me, if you still feel like that in a few hours."

"I will," he said, confidently.

* * *

><p>When she walked out the door, after leaving her number, she was certain that in a few hours they'd be together again, and although she hated to admit it, she felt certain this man would be in her life for a very long time. Neither knew he'd leave after his expulsion, mere hours later, never calling her. He couldn't call a woman as perfect as her, as focused, academically successful and one so easily able to find a good man, and tell her he was kicked out of school because he was a cheater.<p>

Neither knew the next time they'd cross paths he'd be in unbelievable pain. Neither knew that it would be twenty years before they'd be together like that again.

Later that day, when her friends would ask where she disappeared to during the party, she'd tell them she had one hell of a one-nighter, she wouldn't lie, but she wouldn't confess the feelings behind the fun. When anyone asked him about his night, he'd tell them he had some drinks, played some music…nothing big.

That first encounter setup everything for them, years of doubt and longing and miscommunication. The unintentional lie: "I'll call you," as she walked out the door.

She was hurt more than she'd admit, setting up a lifetime of questioning her romantic interests. For years she assumed that he was proud that he had played her. She decided then to never allow him to be in a position where he could get to her emotionally.

She chalked it up as her own stupidity, her silly girlish belief that two people could meet in a night of passion and somehow become more. She was angry with herself, irritated with her subscription to romantic notions, and it led to a lifetime of barriers and resistance.

He had always wondered, if she had stayed that day, had she been there when the phone call came, would she have, for some reason, stayed with him, seeing his brilliance and ignoring the messiness of the trouble he was in with the dean. Part of him would always remember her choosing her school work over him. Later it would become her work at the hospital, but it was variations on the same theme, the same choices.

His expulsion planted the seeds of his belief in his inadequacies, that he would always be less than what she deserved, less than what she needed. When she saw him again, she seemed completely unaffected and he sensed that the encounter meant nothing to her, that the connection he felt that night was completely one-sided.

They each experienced a connection that neither wanted to admit, and they would spend the rest of their lives chasing that thrill, seeking that high, that they never found with anyone else. Their mutual desires buried, but always so close beneath the surface.

Years later, when he had told her the truth of what happened after their night together, there was a wave of nausea that overtook her. She realized in that moment, how much of her perceptions of him were built on those early assessments of who he was, and the thought that perhaps things could have been so different, that her entire life could have taken a completely different turn, was overwhelmingly disappointing. By that point, years of new resentments had the chance to build and it seemed too late. When they finally had the chance to be together, their emotional history was so heavy, years of fighting, resentment, games, disagreements and tension, that piled the baggage on so high they could barely see each other through it anymore. Something that had begun so beautifully, so filled with promise and possibility, became a moment that defined a painful relationship, which would impact nearly everything in their lives.

It took pain and destruction of doomsday proportions to allow them to move on beyond that encounter, to force them to break down the barriers they had built on misconceptions and pain.

She would battle her quest for perfection and control, motherhood issues, emotional unavailability, the loss of her child…the loss of him…before she'd be willing to look beyond her meticulously built, carefully patched walls.

He would battle pain, addiction, insanity, and gut wrenching emotional anguish…and the loss of her…before he'd be willing to look beyond the walls he'd hurriedly built and expanded.

Twenty-five years later, they enjoyed their flirty reminiscing of previous days, until they realized that something they both tried to paint as insignificant laid the groundwork for an entire relationship, and that relationship helped to define their lives. They whispered briefly about their regrets, most of their communication wordless, filled with a sense of melancholy for the things that didn't happen between them.

They sat on the bed, sipping whiskey, needing the reassurance that they weren't still stuck in those painful places, that they had transcended some of the pain and the heartache. They tried to heal wounds that had festered and scarred them each beyond recognition and left them too wounded for anyone but each other.

They knew the following morning, they would be on their way to a beach in Tahiti, on the first of what they hoped would be many escapes since their rebirth.


	52. Chapter 52

**A/N_-_**_I'm glad my theory on the initial reason behind their dysfunction didn't seem to be reaching too far, at least from the comments I've read. I really appreciated the reviews on this one, I was so curious: IHeartHouseCuddy, Boo's House, Bakerstreet Blues, newsession, ClareBear14, housebound, Anonymous, byte size, JLCH, CaptainK8, Sam, TheHouseWitch, anon, Elco, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, Josam, yahnis14, Asia, ABCD, Mon Fogel, lenasti16.-_

_Your time and words were much appreciated, all of you!  
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**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD_

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><p>They should have been tired and weary. House's leg definitely should have been aching and he should have been, almost angrily, rubbing it to ease the pain. Cuddy should have been frustrated from the long ride, a bundle of energy desperate to release her built-up potential, ready to lash out at him for the slightest misstep. He should have, shortly before they arrived, said something to ire her, and she probably should have been frustratedly ignoring him, barely speaking. But that isn't how it happened.<p>

His leg was a bit cramped, and she did need to do something rather than sit there, but they were lost in their sense of freedom in almost every way. When their airplane neared its destination, both looked out the window at the crystal clarity of the water below and felt like nothing in the world existed except for the two of them.

Their "room" was a bungalow situated out over the water. A footbridge stretched from the shore to a porch on the back of the wood hut, and that porch surrounded the entire perimeter of the bungalow.

House patiently navigated the foot bridge from the place where the resort staff dropped them off. The rustic appearance from the outside was a clever disguise for a high-end interior. "Wasn't expecting all of this!" she said, as she looked around the large open room.

The room was a studio, with a kitchenette, seating area and large comfortable bed, with a private bath. There were ceiling fans in various locations throughout the room that kept the air moving, and many large windows that could be opened to allow the outside environment to fill the room.

"I was really hoping they lost this," he said, when he discovered that their luggage had already been delivered to their room, and he poked her suitcase with his cane.

"Hoping they lost our luggage?" she asked with surprise, "Oh…wait, I get it, this has something to do with me not having clothing…doesn't it?"

He smirked at her, "Of course not, that would be _unbelievably_ immature of me!" He added, trying to sound pained, as he pulled her toward him, "I'm hurt that you would think that. It's because I was hoping you'd have to go on a wild shopping spree and that I'd be lucky enough to come along and just sit there waiting…for hours and hours and hours…"

She smirked at his joke, "Definitely, I figured that was part of your dastardly plan…the shopping."

They walked toward the front end of the bungalow. Almost the entire side of the structure opened onto the porch, the front wall comprised of four sets of accordion doors, which faced the wide expanse of water. Standing out on the porch, there wasn't any noise from other guests, a lobby or outdoor tropical bars. There was the sound of the water slapping against the pylons that lifted the bungalow up out of the water, and the sounds of the two of them. Cuddy almost gasped when she looked at the peacefulness of their accommodations, and said, with reverence, "This is amazing. Maybe you should plan vacations for over-stressed professionals."

"You…are not an over-stressed professional. You are an unemployed slacker," he teased, "besides, that _is_ my new career plan, that's why I wanted my medical license back."

She smiled at him and he could see the very change in her eyes, in her smile, and in the way she moved. After decades of interacting through a filter, she was no longer held prisoner by the misconceptions they created from their very beginning. She looked unjaded and unfettered and he could see she was living her life in that moment, not living in the future or the past or in her expectations, but right there.

He could feel the absence of barrier between them. They had grown steadily closer since their reunion, while he supported her in her grief, and she supported him in his uncertainty, they fostered trust while they attempted the strange and unfamiliar routine of not lying to each other. A practice that began as something so small, her policy…her request: no lies.

She asked him for the truth because she didn't want to have to wonder what he was thinking, she didn't want to have to play the game, and part of her at that time _did_ want him to hurt her; want him to make something feel real and cut through her fog. She realized later that maybe she wanted the excuse to be completely honest with him too, the chance to unload some of her pent up feelings of anger and resentment on him. Initially, the concept was so foreign it was almost a joke, the idea that they could talk to each other without all of the subterfuge and plotting.

'No lies' was in stark contrast to the familiarity of so much of what they had known, and yet that silly little policy that began during a drive from New Jersey to the Outer Banks sowed the seeds for a relationship that would actually begin to break free of the mires of itself…'let's just talk. Ask questions, answer questions, and let's…try not to lie,' she asked him, the day after they met again, and he actually agreed to the policy.

Neither realized how significant that request would be. It was like a Rube Goldberg machine, where a marble would roll down a long tube and knock over some standing dominoes, after she inadvertently bumped it while walking past, and a series of smaller chain reactions would occur, each insignificant in themselves, but leading, ultimately, to the completion of a task.

After their discussion in LA about their past, their memories of their beginnings, and her realization that he was not cruelly trying to play her, she was different. The remaining barriers between them crumbling away. The wounds a woman, acquired from a youthful indiscretion that became more, were finally healing. She was once again the brazen, open, unashamed woman, who stood naked in the light of his med school era kitchen.

His realization that she was sad at his disappearance, that the loss of him in her life after that one night, actually hurt her, meant more to him than he cared to admit. She suddenly didn't seem as if she were sitting above him, feeling her superiority and judging his unworthiness. He had always assumed that when he didn't call, she shrugged it off, as evidence that he was a jerk, and she'd quickly move on from there.

After he left his apartment the day of his expulsion, he drove until he found a motel close enough to a bar, drowning his sorrows as he would innumerable times after that. He found her number in his pocket and remembered the hands that held the paper and pen hours before, smiling as she wrote on it. He pictured her, getting ready for the evening, walking past the phone, and only for a second remembering him, and realizing that he didn't call, before she moved on to someone else.

He was brought out of his thoughts of the past when she brushed her hand against his while he gripped the railing. The sensation of her skin on his felt different, as if their direct touch had always been separated by a veil during every encounter after their first.

When his hand withdrew from hers, she looked over at him, a hint of worry, "What?" she asked.

He moved his hand back next to hers. "Nothing. You startled me."

They stared out at the water for some time and she finally said, "Telling me the truth…no lies…at all. No attempts to spare my feelings…"

He looked over at her, waiting to hear the question. "OK…" he said, as he inhaled deeply.

"Would you have called…really? I mean, would you have waited a few days, to play those silly dating games, would you have decided it wasn't a big deal, slept with five more girls the next night to enjoy your freedom…would you…"

"I get the picture…" he interrupted, "five…I was going to call you a few minutes after five. And tell you that I wanted to get something to eat…in South Bend."

"Indiana?"

"Yea, I knew a place there. Mostly, I thought a road trip would be fun, a way for me to monopolize your entire evening."

"Would have been fun…"

"You don't have to question it anymore. My…motives were pure…well…purish. And horny very, very horny."

She laughed at his words and the face he made trying to convince her of his honesty. "And you? What would Ms. Cuddy have done, if I got that call…if you heard about my expulsion while you were at my apartment?"

"Let me state, unequivocally, that the Ms. Cuddy of the 90's and beyond, would have been completely furious with you. And then, like so many other times, you'd eventually do something adorably frustrating, and we'd move on. You mastered the art of winning me over during the years. But, the me that you met my freshman year…" she nodded her head, staring out at the water, and he allowed her to think, wanting the answer to be honest and complete.

"I have to admit that the me of then would have asked you why such a brilliant guy would waste his time cheating. And told you that the feeling of success would make it worth the effort of doing the work on your own. And then I would have had sympathy sex with you…and then I'd help you find a new school."

"Do you mean that?" he laughed skeptically.

"Oh god, yes! Completely. I definitely had quite the crush on you back then. Actually at that time, I probably would have begged you to take me back home...on the back of your motorcycle...to meet my family, because I would have loved to show off your brain, and then proudly discuss your bad boy side. You would have appealed to my inner snob, and my desire to break free and be wild."

He smirked at her, until they each returned to their silent enjoyment of the water.

"Thank you so much for this trip. This is so unbelievably romantic!" she said, pointing out toward the sky.

Colors of all shades bounced between the clouds as a distant storm broke up, and the sun's rays were fractured in every direction. He opened his mouth to deflect the sentiment, to deny vehemently that he selected a spot like that intentionally, and every possible response was a complete and utter lie. He looked at the happiness on her face and said, "It's alright. And you're welcome," with a smiled that indicated deeper agreement. "I think it's more about the company than the location," he added, pointing to himself.

* * *

><p>Later that night they made their way down to the resort bar for dinner and drinks. They ate lazily, enjoying their beverages and the calming effects of the alcohol. Half way through dinner, in between flirtatious glances and shocks of electricity from the subtle brushes of hands and feet, a realization hit. Cuddy left the table for the restroom and a waiter approached to see what else they needed. "Enjoy it while it lasts, my friend," the waiter said to House, "new love only lasts so long. Then you have to learn to care for each other after the newness and excitement fades."<p>

As usual whenever the two of them were involved, things weren't straightforward or simple. They had done everything backwards; they were learning to be _in love_, after loving each other on and off for years.

Their initial night together clearly had the possibility of love, but the embers were stomped out far too quickly to develop. When they tried again years later, their pain and baggage prevented them from being fully in love. They had a few days of excitement, and months of sexual compatibility, but their more significant feelings were quickly doused by work, obligation, distrust and doubt. In this latest attempt, when their feelings again overtook them, and they found themselves seeking happiness in each other's arms, that veil still existed, initially.

After they finally brought up the pain and disappointment of the past, with long present misunderstandings cleared away, doubt removed and a connection established out of deep trust and, in a very real way, a type of mutual dependence, they were able to actually be in love. They weren't nauseatingly affectionate or demonstrative, but the looks between them were intense and amorous, the emotions behind them very real. They both felt the sense of internal giddiness and a happiness that, not only had they never experienced, but neither even believed existed.

They were walking back to their bungalow at a relaxed pace, her arm looped casually through his, and he asked, "What high school jock ruined oral sex for you before I rescued you?"

She laughed, "As always, you are both subtle and humble."

"Trademarks of me, yes…"

"No one," she answered, without further hesitance.

"No one? Then why were you so hesitant when I met you…I mean, who in the hell doesn't like oral sex, Cuddy?"

She giggled again, "I just…wasn't comfortable doing that…always assumed guys did that just to be sure they were gonna get laid. I never thought any of them really wanted to…plus it's…really personal."

"Wait …oh my god, I was your first? I took your oral sex-virginity? Oh please tell me I did!"

"Don't think that's really a thing."

"It is, trust me. So…is it true…that I orally deflowered you?"

"You're an idiot…but yes…it's true."

He tugged her arm back to stop her from walking and turned her to face him. He studied her to be sure she was telling the truth.

"Why would I lie?" she asked, giggling, "It's not that big of a deal!"

She waited for his next comment, waited for the joke, or the teasing jibe that she expected to come next. Slowly the smile left his face. "You really would answer almost any question I'd ask."

"I told you back when we were at the Outer Banks to ask whatever you wanted; I've tried to be very honest with you…"

"One. One hooker…after prison."

She looked at him with the realization that he was finally answering the one question he consistently avoided.

He inhaled slowly. "The day after I got out. I slept with two other women after that, Kate set me up with them. It was fine, but…I just wasn't that interested in finding future hookups. I thought…the one thing I always dreaded was coming true…that sex was no longer my thing. I tried to accept it as best I could, figuring that brain damage and drug use probably killed off my libido, and that was that. When you walked into Kate's bar, it had already been over a year."

"Wait…what? I'm sorry…give me a moment to comprehend. So, while I'm thinking that you are embarrassed that you have to hire hookers, or that you are embarrassed by the number of hookers you've hired, you are actually embarrassed that you didn't feel like hiring them?"

"Yeah…why would I be embarrassed that I hired them? That wouldn't be a shock to anyone!"

"So you wanted me to think that you were having more sex than what you were."

"Yes, absolutely…I didn't want you to think that I'd lost my step! Fortunately, about two seconds after I saw you, I realized that I still _was_ interested in sex, just...with very specific people."

"You are quite possibly the only guy out there that would want the woman he's trying to impress to think that he was sleeping with a lot of prostitutes."

"Since you _are_ that woman that I was trying to impress…and you _are_ sleeping with me anyway…and saying sweet lovey-dovey things into my ear…I'm not the only screwed up one here," he said, smirking.

"Thank you for telling me that. As screwed up as it is…that was probably really hard for you to say."

He said, softly, "We agreed…no lies."

She smiled and began to speak until he interrupted, the confident grin returning to his face, "Besides, I'm still riding the high after I found out that I orally deflowered you. I've never captured anyone's any-ginity before."

''I'm sure you have," she said, as they continued their walk back to their bungalow.

"I really didn't. My first was more experienced than me, most of the girls in college and med school were wise to the ways of the world, Stacy…well you knew Stacy…so…and strangely none of my hookers were ever virgins…weird, huh?"

"Yea, that's really bizarre," she giggled. "So wait…does that mean that I captured your virginity-capturing virginity?"

He pondered thoughtfully for a moment, "I'm so pleased you are into this. Yes. Yes it does. You were the one that first gave me the opportunity." He broke into a wide smile, "This sort of thinking is exactly why you are the only woman for me!"


	53. Chapter 53

_**A/N-**thank you so much for all of your reviews and to all of those who have favorited or alerted this story. All of the reviewers-lenasti16, KiwiClare, JLCH, Boo's House, RedTulipAna, TheHouseWitch, Cate53, dmarchl, IHeartHouseCuddy, ClareBear14, Josam, Truth, Alex, Abby, housebound, HuddyGirl, Little Greg, Irina, Mon Fogel. Thank you all for your comments and your willingness to see this outcome for them...people should have good things happen once in awhile, right!  
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_As far as what things I'm going to explore from the past...some I just don't know yet, I want to try to make sure the things seem relevant to the story line. I am trying to get all of the big ones.  
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_**Disclaimer-**I don't own the characters of House, MD_

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><p>"What's this one from?" she asked, while they lay in bed in the early hours of the morning, poking at an old scar on his ribs. The large windows around the entire building were open. The sheets on the bed and simple curtains that hung down over the windows rippled, as the breeze from outside, with the slightest hint of a morning chill, rushed into the room.<p>

"Umm…" he said, lifting his head from the pillow as he looked down at the spot she was touching, "Vigorous game of cops and robbers, third grade."

"Were you the cop or the robber?" she asked, while she traced the wide scar with her thumb.

"Cop, trying to head off a wily criminal by going over a storage shed instead of around it. Unfortunately, I used a pipe that wasn't really secured to the building."

"Looks like it must have been pretty bad."

"Because I tried to take care of it myself, since I knew my mom wouldn't be pleased if she knew what I was doing, or where I was doing it…and then it got all nasty and infected…and I had to tell her. At which point she was mad at me for being where I was, doing what I was doing, _and_ that I didn't tell her."

Cuddy smiled, closed her eyes, lowered herself back onto the bed and curled against him again silently. "I mentioned the 'm'-word…" he added, after a few moments of silence.

"Is that a forbidden topic?" she asked, as she stretched an arm over him.

"I can feel you tensing, and trying to make it seem like you aren't tensing."

"No, I'm not."

"Are you lying?"

"A little. I'm a little tense, but it isn't a big deal."

"My mother stresses you out too?"

She chuckled, "Everything is fine, stop worrying." After a few moments, she added, "And there it is…now _you_ are tensing."

"You're upset that I didn't tell my mother about us?"

"I shouldn't be."

"You told your mother, so…"

"Technically I can't take credit for telling my mother, since she ambushed us. As much as I'd love to go all sanctimonious on you…I'm not really on the most stable of platforms."

She sat up and looked at him. He was wearing a look of surprise and said, "You could have lied to her when she showed up. I probably would have played the 'well-I-told-my-mom' card if I were you."

"It's OK. I am proving to you that I'm not trying to control you."

"Difficult?"

She crinkled her face, "Once in a while…old habits..."

She dropped her head down, shaking it. "I'll call my mom tonight," he offered, without a hint of resentment.

"No! Don't."

"That's what you want me to do isn't it? I'm being considerate…it's weird I know."

"It isn't that…see, that's exactly why I wasn't telling you how I felt. Sometimes little white lies can be a good thing, I guess. Because if I tell you the truth, then you do something to make _me_ happy, then you resent it… So I'm stuck with either lying to you, or making you feel like you need to change for me."

"Doing things right…it's a big pain in the ass…" he said, emphatically.

"I know! I don't want you to call your mom…I really don't, particularly not while we are here…having fun," Cuddy said, "I don't want to ruin this for us."

"Then…what exactly are you looking for from me?"

"Nothing. I guess…I was just curious. Did she ever…even know about me?"

"Well yea, I always keep her up to date on the women I'm screwing…" he joked and stopped when the expression left her face. "That…was probably NOT the way I was supposed to say that."

Cuddy smirked, trying to cover her sense of hurt. He added, "Oh please! You know I don't think of you that way."

"I know."

"It was just a stupid thing that I would say…and…I actually said it…out loud…to you…"

"_That _is not that big of a deal…" she said, her fake smile plastered across her face. "What sort of _is_ a big deal…is how you feel about this. Why are you embarrassed about me?"

"I'm not!"

"You've accused me of being embarrassed of you, but, I think maybe it's been the other way all along."

"I…am _not_ embarrassed of you. I just…don't talk to my mom. We aren't the keep in touch type of family. I'm not exactly the devoted son she probably deserves…I'm guessing her earlier dreams for me didn't include drug addiction and a criminal record."

"You are an utterly brilliant diagnostician, who has saved lives that others gave up on. I would assume those things probably _surpass_ her greatest expectations for you."

"Not sure if that makes up for the other things."

"You like extremes...and you suck at mediocrity."

"Thank you?"

She smiled, "I met Celia…the woman at the hospital."

"Oh. Decided to talk to you about us?"

"Yea, when I was coming in to see Kate last week. Celia is another pretty strong House-advocate."

"She is. She really is."

"She said we're going to her place for dinner after we get back from here."

"Did she? If she said it, then it's pretty much a done deal. I don't think many people tell Celia 'no'. Did she lecture you?"

"Yea. A little bit. I mean, she was also very nice…told me that I should know you are too good for me…and that I'm too good for you too."

"That's…definitely her."

"Really strong, independent women seem to like you. My mom, Celia…"

"Bitchy, controlling women love me," he teased. "I collect them."

She smiled and nodded as she went back to tracing the various scars along his body.

Her eyes settled on his leg, on the new marks there, that were added since they had been involved in the past. She ran her finger along one of the newest scars, from his attempt to do surgery on himself. She hated, during those months after their breakup, watching him self-destruct, she did her best avoid noticing anything that was going on, but she did not expect the horror she found in his apartment that night. His eyes clamped shut as he could sense her mind traveling back in time. "Not one of my better moments," he said, stiffly.

"Not mine either."

His eyes popped open and he looked at her, wordlessly, and read the sorrow on her face, the sense of guilt that seemed so far out of place. When everything was spiraling out of control he _wanted_ to see her feeling guilty. So much of him had hoped that she'd feel regret for what she'd done, that she'd realize how much she hurt him. He thought if she knew just how much pain he was in, her cold, hard exterior would crack, and the woman that loved him would emerge to end the insanity of their breakup.

Initially, he hoped, underneath all of the anger, she would find him, pull him into her arms and bring him back to the comfort he'd known for only a few moments. That comfort, his head on her lap, waking next to her, walking into her home unannounced, but actually welcome…felt like the place where he had always belonged.

When it was gone he missed it so much more than the absent chunk of muscle that helped to define him. She finally looked like she felt as guilty as he had once hoped she'd be, but sitting on the bed in Tahiti, he wanted to erase that look, to make her forget the guilt, because the last thing he wanted to do was cause more pain.

She looked him over methodically, and he could see her own harsh criticisms of herself. She ran her fingertips over his skin, catching the dips and imperfections from wounds, the points and ridges of bones, the dints and curves of muscle. Normally he would have hated having someone scrutinizing him like that, but the look in her eyes, the combination of guilt, love and empathy, felt different than anything else. She took her time, as if she could heal each wound or ache permanently with the touch of a finger, brush of a thumb, or the deep press of her palm over the area.

After she was finished, her fingers came to rest on his chest and she looked at him sweetly. Dressed in a white lab coat, sitting in the clinic, she never looked so capable of healing wounds as she did sitting next to him on their bed. She pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before backing away, "No more pain," she said softly. "At least when we can avoid it. _Please_ don't hurt yourself anymore."

He nodded. "No more guilt. You shouldn't do that to yourself either."

* * *

><p>They took a tour of the islands on a speedboat, enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of a different place. Cuddy was leaning against him, happily lost in the moment, when she noticed he was distracted by a conversation behind him. A snide teenager was loudly arguing his mother.<p>

"I have a damn sinus infection, I already told you!" the teen griped. "Just get me the antibiotics."

"You didn't have a cold. I don't think you have a sinus infection. Just wait until we go home tomorrow and we'll talk to your regular doctor," she reassured him.

The conversation had gone on between the two of them for nearly fifteen minutes and House finally had enough of them disrupting his peace. "Yes, your mother is a_ huge _idiot," he said, as he turned around and stunned the woman and her son. "As a medical professional, I've been trained to detect drug seeking behaviors, particularly in teens. As a drug addict, I've actually developed entirely new forms of drug seeking behavior. Allow me to tell you, the best way to seek and obtain drugs of all sorts, is to have a friend who's actually a doctor with a prescription pad, and learn to forge his signature. I know that prescription drugs are really all the rage, and I'm sure you'd love to be a hit at all of the parties…"

"Mind your own business," the teen griped.

"See…the problem is…antibiotics are horrible party drugs. There's no high…and I've found that urinary tract infections among the repeat partiers make the ladies less receptive to lovin'."

"It's not for a party, whack job, I have a sinus infection."

"No, you really don't," he said, before turning to the mother, "I'm guessing your son has a lot of unsupervised time lately. Maybe you're working a new job and he's home alone, or he has a new girlfriend."

"Both…why?" the woman asked. "How did you know that?"

"Your son probably has some sort of oozing or some pustules appearing down south. He wants the antibiotics for whatever STD he picked up from his extracurriculars."

The teen's eyes were bulging as he searched for words. "Problem is," House continued, "Not all STD's are bacterial. If you have a virus, the antibiotics won't do you any good. Probably best to swallow your shame and go let someone check that out to see what it is. Those things can have some pretty horrible side effects if untreated."

"My son does not have a…" the woman stopped as she saw the look on her son's face. "You don't have a…"

The boy's sneer had evaporated and it was clear that he wished there was some place, any place, to hide on that speedboat.

"Are you serious?" the mother yelled at her son.

"Look, I'm more than happy to help, I'm with the luxury resort division of 'Doctors Without Borders'…lesser known but equally important. Now, if you and your son could be completely silent for the rest of the trip, as a way to repay me for my valuable advice, I'd really appreciate it. I'd like to have a nice boat ride without thinking of your son's disease ridden schlong."

He turned back to Cuddy, "Guess I should have scheduled a private tour."

* * *

><p>When they returned, later that night, to their bungalow, the moon bright in the sky, they chatted quietly on the porch, his arm wrapped around her while she ran her hand across his stomach. They were more physically affectionate than they'd been in the past, at least when alone, in ways that were not always sexual. Neither was quick to admit how thoroughly they enjoyed the attention. "Are you trying to seduce me…again?" he asked, with manufactured horror.<p>

"Always," she answered, rolling her eyes and smirking.

"It was the doctoring wasn't it? The doctoring and my amazing skills of deduction always made you hot."

"I can't resist you when you say things like 'disease-ridden schlong.' Complete turn-on."

He chuckled softly, "I'll have to remember to whisper that one in your ear."

"Ohhh…yes…wouldn't that be _so _wonderful," she laughed.

She followed him into the room, watching him as he poured drinks. "What are you going to do with your medical license?"

"Use it to garner sexual favors from you, what else would I do with it?"

"I…know we were going to discuss this when we got back but, I think I am going to move closer to you."

"I don't think that's a great idea."

"OK," she said, forcing a smile and looking through the cabinets.

"Come here," he said, with a quick chuckle, as he watched her, secretly somewhat happy to see the disappointment on her face.

"Later. I'm hungry, gonna get something to eat."

"You aren't hungry!"

"I am!"

"Come here," he insisted.

When she refused again, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. "You just love making the cripple chase you around. I want you to move in with me. When you are ready, you can get rid of your place, use the money to attend stripper school…"

"You should probably talk to Kate about that first," she said.

"I run all of the important stuff past her first. She _also_ thinks you should be a stripper."

Cuddy looked at him unamused.

He continued, "I talked to her about you moving in before we left."

"You did?"

"Yup. I was thinking we could live at Kate's for a bit, help her get on her feet, since it will probably be a while before she's fully functional. And take that time to figure out where we want to live and work. We could go…anywhere."

"We didn't get to this point last time after almost a year, are you sure you're ready this time…so quickly?" she asked.

"Yea, I'm sure…as long as you are sure that you don't mind crashing at my place with me and my buddy…I understand that at this point in your life, it may not be your dream to live in a glorified frat house with some roomies."

She giggled, "I think I can handle it."


	54. Chapter 54

**A/N-**_Thank you to all who read and particularly those who reviewed: JLCH, ClareBear14, TheHouseWitch, IHeartHouseCuddy, Kika, southpaw2, Lynnie5267, housebound, Suzieqlondon, bonneiyy77, dmarchl, Josam, Abby, HuddyGirl, Boo's House, Alex, RedTulipAna, lenasti16, CaptainK8, grouchysnarky, yahnis14, Pdubou_

_So glad the disease ridden schlong brought so many such joy...wait, that doesn't sound right :)_

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter contains adult content. (This is just some slightly smutty vacation fun. Everyone deserves a little fun on their vacation. It's marked as usual)_

* * *

><p>Their last full day in Tahiti was bittersweet. Transferring from an existence where the primary goal was relaxation and fun to the harsh reality of everyday obligation was always uncomfortable.<p>

When Cuddy woke the morning of the last full day, she slipped into the tub for a long, pleasant soak with a book. She enjoyed her reading in peace until she heard House rifling through things in the other room. His voice, emanating from the doorway, echoed, "I can't believe you've been saving this…why haven't I seen it before?"

She didn't look up from her book, instinctively knowing exactly what he had in his hands, "You were going through my luggage?"

"This is way too good to leave hidden in your luggage," he said, as he sat on the edge of the tub, holding out the lingerie that he dug out of her bag.

"You didn't give me time to put it on. At what point did I need to encourage you? We've had more sex since we got here than we've had non-sex. I figured I'd save it for later when we needed the inspiration."

"When have we ever needed the inspiration? Just because we don't _need_ it, doesn't mean I wouldn't like it."

"I can't believe you went through my luggage."

"I can't believe that you can't believe that," he said matter-of-factly. "Now, I also found these cute little handcuff thingies."

"I heard you like to play cops and robbers."

"These...you definitely should have broken out…I would love to play with them. So, since you've been exceedingly bad, hiding them from me…I guess we'll have to leave these out for later."

"They aren't for me."

"You bringing us an island girl tonight…someone we can bestow our vast knowledge on to be passed on through the generations?"

"No"

"You had 13 shipped in from Guatemala?"

"No"

"I'm still not into guys or animals, Cuddy…"

She chuckled, as she continued reading, barely paying him any attention. "They're for you," she added, absently.

"I know, and I'll be happy to use them…I'll be waiting for you after your bath."

"I'll rephrase. They're for you to _wear._"

"I don't think so, that's not how we work."

"You like trying new things."

"Not that"

She stopped reading, and looked up at him, "You're kidding? You've done it to me, what's the difference?"

"I need my freedom in order to meet your ravenous needs."

"My needs have long since been met…_this_ is about fun."

"Eh…not so fun, I'll pass…but I do always enjoy 'restrained Cuddy'..."

"You don't trust me?"

"Of course I trust you."

"What exactly do you think I'm going to do that would be so horrible?"

"I _don_'_t_ think you'd do anything horrible, I know you wouldn't, it's just not enjoyable for me."

"Don't know until you try."

"I know. I can use my imagination."

"This…is about control…"

"Duh"

"No, I mean, you are a bit of a control freak too."

"I'm not. This is different."

"I've tried to give up on controlling everything. I want you to give up on controlling this one thing, for one night…"

"No. I had no idea you were so in to this…this…is very telling…"

She put her book down on the edge of the tub, stretching her arm lazily outward. "Today…it's my way, or no way."

His eyes lit up at the challenge, at her insistence. "You think you can get me to cave by withholding sex? I'm like a camel and you've been a pretty accessible oasis lately, so I think I can resist for a while."

"I've done it before, and succeeded. This isn't about personality. This is about sex. It's about trust and fun, and the fact that I think I can make you completely crazy. And I think you'd really enjoy yourself. I've always trusted you enough, and it's slightly insulting."

"You need someone to administrate…"

"You figured me out. I miss being the boss…you are the only one here…" she joked.

"You think you can get me to cave?"

"Hope so…or at least it will be fun trying," she said, while she let the water out of the tub and stood.

"I'm not that easy to manipulate," he said to her, as she walked by.

"I know…I have to get out of the tub sometime. You can leave the room if you want, I'm not forcing you to stay."

He folded his arms indignantly. "I've seen it all before," he said, acting unaffected and watching her walk over toward the towel hanging on the wall.

She ignored him for a moment, but when she walked past him, she looked him right in the eye, "Which…is why you know how _much_ you want it."

He couldn't suppress his grin. "I will win."

"_That_ is entirely possible…I just hope you understand, the 'prize' for winning…is you, finishing the day, with your hand and a long shower…"

"My 'prize' will be the way you'll be begging me for more."

She chuckled and walked away. He lay on the bed and watched her get dressed, enjoying the sweet torture of not having her, a sensation so familiar from years of experience, with the even more pleasant knowledge that at one point, one of them would cave and he'd have her again.

She dressed, putting on panties and a bra that were sexy, but nothing unbelievable on anyone else. On her, they were irresistible. A simple tan sundress covered more of her and she added sandals, which she put on in a way that was somehow sexy in and of itself. He watched her put on her makeup, style her hair and straighten her clothes one final time. In the years she was absent, he couldn't believe how much he missed watching her do simple things, in unassuming ways that were somehow attractive to him.

She wandered around the room getting ready, feeling herself become excited by the fact that he was watching her. No one ever made her feel as irresistibly sexy as he did. He was lying on the bed, watching her get ready, with a confident, unconcerned look on his face. He had no idea how incredibly attractive he was, just being there. His legs were crossed at the ankles, hands folded behind his head, and his eyes followed her like magnets on iron. She knew that no matter what she told him, how many times, or in how many ways, he would never understand how attractive he was to her. He knew he was good in bed…a skill he honed long ago, his powers of observation and attention to detail making him a fantastic partner. He didn't know how attractive he was just relaxing there.

Their equally competitive natures made games of temptation like these powerfully fun. Any lesser of a competitor and there would have been no point in trying.

They went into town, so she could pick up some clothes. He knew her goal and enjoyed every second of her flaunting in front of him. He didn't complain about the amount of time he waited, he reacted with just enough interest to make her want to try harder while she put on a few different dresses, finally settling on the two she knew he liked the most. "Hey, House…" she called from inside a fitting room.

He smiled, shook his head and walked over to the dressing room, easily peering inside over the door, "What?"

"Zipper's stuck"

"Sure it is"

"I'm serious...could you help me?"

"Oh absolutely…" he said, as she unlatched the door and he walked into the tiny room.

He tugged at the zipper half-heartedly and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I don't know if I can get it…you'll have to be patient with me."

He slipped around to the front of her, his hands circling her waist, and he sat down on the bench situated against one wall. Pulling her forward, so she stood between his legs, his eyes level with her breasts, he reached around her to the zipper. Her breasts could feel the tickle of his rough face and the warmth of his breath. He saw a shiver cross her body, covering her skin from points of contact and outward. He could feel her body surrendering, ever so slightly, and was certain that by the end of the day, he'd be the victor…until she sighed. She barely made a sound at all; the slightest murmur of noise that he probably felt more than he heard, and he felt a tremor in his stony confidence.

His fingers, less nimbly than he wanted, started the zipper and slid it down her back. The fingers not actively holding the clasp trailed down her skin. He placed light kisses along her collarbone and she stooped slightly to kiss his lips, both of them exhibiting amazing restraint and offering only meager contact. She stood back up, still dangerously close to him. Each of them carefully controlled their breathing, both wearing smug grins and entirely unwilling to admit defeat.

"Thanks," she said, cheerily, spinning around and bending to swoop up her own clothing.

"That's a cheap shot, even for you!"

"Hunh?" she asked, innocently.

"Sticking your ass in my face"

"Just getting dressed. If it's too much for you to handle, you can go back outside and wait patiently…like a good boy."

His eyes flared, "You're just fueling my resistance."

She gathered the items that she wanted to purchase and left him sitting in the fitting room.

She stood at the counter, waiting to pay, and he leaned against it next to her. When the clerk announced the total, he handed over the money to pay for the items and flashed an endearing and genuine smile. "What are you doing?" she questioned, her tone aghast.

"Same thing I've always done. Acted in a well-mannered, gentlemanly way."

She scoffed, loudly, the meaning clear without any actual words crossing her lips.

"What?" he asked, looking at the clerk with disbelieved confusion. "Women. Deep down, they still can't resist a guy who pays. Particularly the ones who can't hold down a job."

She shook her head, grabbing the bags and leaving the store.

When he caught up with her in the street, the light so bright he was squinting to find her, she was sitting on a bench, searching through the contacts on her phone. "Who are you calling?" he asked.

"I can't take it!" she said, frustration clear on her face.

"What? All you have to do is give up this silly notion of controlling me. Allow us to return to our room and I can demonstrate to you, multiple times, why I am…and should remain…unfettered in bed."

"It's not about the sex thing!"

He looked around for what she could be talking about. "You lost me now, Cuddy. I'm…not following you in anyway…who are you calling?"

"Simpson."

"NO! No…no… Seriously? No! I was joking… a joke," he whined. "You said you wouldn't."

"I can't take it anymore! I need a job."

"OK, you win that one…I'll stop. It's just a joke. A humorous role reversal…I'm responsible, you aren't…I'll probably never get to play that one again, so I figured I'd take advantage now. What can I do to…wait," he said, suspiciously, "You want me to cave to your freaky desires and you're using this to manipulate me…" He stepped back and pointed at her, "Manipulator!"

"This isn't about the game…the game's over…"

"Look…how about this. I will help you figure out the job thing when we get back...I promise."

"OK," she said, still less than enthusiastic.

"I don't want you to give up on the game…what's the fun in that?"

"Right…like you don't want to win!"

"I do want to win. But not because you forfeit over something like this. I want to win when you forfeit because of my irresistible hotness."

She smiled against her will, "You are…incredibly hot…and annoying."

"A delicate balance. And the reason you will never have a lot of female friends. They'll always be ridiculously jealous of you and your having of me."

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

After their disagreement, it took only a few moments before the two returned to their devoted torment of each other. When they arrived back at their bungalow, the air was thick with anticipation, neither of them caving, and each ridiculously tense with arousal. He got drinks for them and stood, leaning in the doorway, facing the night sky one more time before their return to New Jersey.

"Thank you so much for this trip, it has been amazing!" she said, as she leaned against him and he instinctively draped his arm around her.

"We need to do this stuff a lot, becau…" his fingers trailed along the lace of her clothing and he looked down and saw she was wearing the lingerie he found earlier.

"I owe you that lap dance I promised you…for getting your license…"

"Funny how you'd pick now to pay up," he said, smiling.

"I know…timing is everything. You can pass on it…"

"Right...I'm sure we both know just how likely _that_ is to happen."

She pulled him to a chair that she took from the table, turned up the stereo with music that he could tell she already had selected, and danced in front of him as if she'd been a dancer all of her life. He couldn't help but think, if all of those who had worked for her over the years could have seen her like that, no one would have heard a single word she said…but they all would have tried desperately to obey her commands.

He anticipated the moment when he'd be able to feel her, and he dreaded it at the same time, because he knew he had been teased to an almost unmanageable level. He flung one arm casually over the seatback and let his other arm hang, leaning down into the chair so she'd have easy access to him. He felt his resolve receding each time her breasts came close to his face, but when he could finally feel her brushing against his erection, seductively timing the swing and swivel of her hips to make him perfectly insane with desire, he wondered when winning became so important. He would always be surprised that he could do this to her…get her to act this way for him.

She pulled his shirt off and directed one of his hands to her hip, so he could feel the way she was moving, so that he could anticipate the moment when he would be allowed to take possession of her. She leaned in closer, still keeping her rhythm, her lace covered breasts brushing against his naked chest, while she teased him and sighed a gloriously desirous sigh against his neck. The two of them each pulled their faces back, his hand putting pressure on her hip to move her closer and then each said, with absolute synchronicity, "Fuck it, you win."

They said, simultaneously again, "Seriously?" before they both began to laugh.

Neither found the situation amusing enough to stop their seduction. She ran her hands along his arousal and she felt his knee bouncing nervously as he tried to distract himself from the sensations. She opened his pants and yanked them and his boxers down past his knees, which he tried to kick off while she was climbing back up onto him. They worked cooperatively to remove most of her outfit, and she grabbed her restraints and managed to get one of his hands ensnared, and attached to the chair he was sitting on, before he lifted her one leg and looped his free arm under her knee and thigh and pulled her forward, his hand on the small of her back pushing her toward him.

When they were united, they both sighed happily, their game forgotten, as they finally moved closer to relief from the tension built during an entire day. The chair was small, and with one arm encumbered, he was quickly getting frustrated. He reached his free hand down to the ground and lowered them onto the floor in front of the chair. His one arm was pulled behind him, up over his head, but his free arm drew her closer and they kissed hungrily while they thrust their bodies together.

At first they whispered words of want and desire, trying to verbally communicate the depth of their needs, the words and accompanying feelings eventually fading as the physical aspect became all encompassing. He was certain he could outlast her for at least another round, his craving thundering in his head and bringing him to a state that felt almost super human. Just as she was approaching her climax, she balanced over him, pinning him to the ground as best as she could, slowing them to an excruciatingly languid pace. He loved to bring her to the edge and back, but she didn't often do such things to him. She tormented him, slowly building them both closer to orgasm.

When she came, she moaned his name in his ear with gratitude for the feelings she was experiencing, and he had no choice but to follow her, crashing into her with abandon and dropping to the floor powerlessly when the tension had all been released.

He didn't notice the way his arm was twisted awkwardly behind him or that the chair he had been sitting on was over on its side. Cuddy released his hand and pulled his arm around her, situating herself next to him on the floor. "I didn't even get your other hand tied!" she said, the words of frustration lacking any emphasis.

"If the goal was to control me and work me into a frenzy, you appear to have done remarkably well without them. Besides, we surrendered at the same time…technically it's a draw…one hand seems fair."

"Something to look forward to for our next vacation," she said, as she helped lift him from the floor and they flopped, exhausted, into bed to enjoy their last night before the flight back home.


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N-**_Thank you to all who have read and reviewed since the last chapter: JLCH, Josam, Houserulez, CaptainK8, IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, ClareBear14, Abby, newdayz, lenasti16, Alex, Dmarchl, HuddyGirl, KiwiClare, anon, CassandraDarling and Anna...thank you all for your continued support!  
><em>

_I'm gone for the rest of the weekend, so I won't be updating any more until Monday._

**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>When they were finally back after the long return trip, they stopped at the hospital to see Kate before going home. They walked through the doors of the hospital and House found himself quickly stopped. "Well, you are a little less ugly once you've gotten some sun," Celia said, chuckling, as they entered. "You aren't due back yet, so why are you here?"<p>

"Came to see Kate," he answered.

"Dr. Vega left already."

"Left?" House asked. "Rehab facility?"

"Home."

"Home? She can't be home by herself."

"She went home the day you left for vacation. Checked herself out AMA. I dropped dinner by a couple of times, she's doing fine," Celia answered.

"That sneaky little bitch," House commented under his breath.

Celia walked over to Cuddy and put an arm around her, "You know I think it would be so much fun for us to get together and talk. I'll bet you could give me tons of useful information. How about lunch once your boyfriend here is back to work?"

"Sure," Cuddy said, smiling, "Monday."

"You get the hell outta here before someone sees you and expects you to start working again," she said to House, as she pushed him toward the door.

They were home for less than two hours and House was already irritated. "If Lucy's in there…" he joked, with some frustration, "I think we'll just have to kill them both and get back on a plane."

"I can live with that," Cuddy responded before they both got out of the car.

There was an unfamiliar car in the driveway and House pushed open the front door and stopped abruptly, looking around the room with some confusion. He thought there could have been a home healthcare nurse visiting. He considered that there may be friends from the bar, or even a beautiful woman that Kate had somehow cajoled into the house, but he didn't expect two teens to stare back blankly from the sofa. He backed up onto the front doorstep, looked at the number beside the door to ensure he had the right house, and walked back in, Cuddy in tow. "Hi, I live here. Who are you?"

"We were just visiting," the boy answered, as Kate walked into the room with improved mobility.

"You're getting around well…" Cuddy said with surprise.

"Yea, good PT. I'm doing great, I'm feeling better!" Kate said, as she hugged Cuddy and then walked over toward House.

He held a hand out to block her from approaching too closely. "Why did you check out?"

"I just wanted to be home…I knew you wouldn't let me leave, so I figured I'd get out while I could."

"This isn't the time for drinking and women," House said, accusatorily.

"I'm out of commission for at least another month. I'm behaving…I'm just behaving at home instead of at the hospital."

"A completely pointless risk. Leaving a hospital AMA after a traumatic brain injury! Seizures, infections, falls…while alone? What kind of moron…"

Cuddy chuckled, placing a hand on his forearm and interrupting his train of thought. "Do you have a comment?" House asked.

"I know exactly what type of moron would do something like that," she said, as she walked in between him and Kate. "Although it's probably not the best time to discuss it, I'll explain it all on your pilfered white board later. So…let's just get settled in for now."

He scowled at her for a few moment, and then nodded. "And who are our esteemed guests," House asked, tilting his head toward the teens on the sofa, who were watching the exchange with some interest.

"These are friends of mine from work."

"Friends?" House said, as he looked at them and then back at Kate.

"Yes," she answered, with a look that clearly asked him to refrain from further discussion until later. "They ran to the store for me and they were helping out around here a bit."

"Can I talk to you for a minute? In private?"

House pulled Kate back toward her room, "Now you're bringing the patients home?"

"They aren't patients, his mom was. He's a sweet kid, he heard what happened and came to see me. How was the trip?"

"Fine. You collect us don't you? Crazy people to occupy your world?"

"I like you guys!"

House shook his head and couldn't help but smirk slightly.

"Speaking of additions to my collection… Did you talk to Lisa about moving in?" she asked.

House nodded his head only slightly, "If that's still good."

"Definitely, I could use the help for the time being, anyway."

"In a few months when you're feeling better, we'll probably head out on our own, pretend to be grownups…"

"Are things…ya know…going well?"

"Yesss," he said, decisively. "Any jobs open up around the hospital lately?"

"Mine. At least temporarily. Why?"

"Cuddy needs one or she's going to explode under the weight of her perceived uselessness. I don't want her getting sucked back into the old vortex. If they hear she's looking for a job, they'll fight for her."

"Would that be so bad?"

"Yes…they suck her in, then she brings me in, then we blow up. Don't care to watch that rerun."

"She could fill in for me until I'm back"

"That's a great idea, in psych?" he said, snidely. "She has no background in it and they take one look at who she's dating and her name's off of the list."

"They know I let you move in with me…"

"After you already had the job. Anything else?"

"What's her specialty?"

"Endocrinology."

"Eh…nothing I've heard about"

"The woman can effectively herd greased pigs in an orderly fashion and convince them to clean up a bit...and wear a lab coat...well, at least once or twice, there must be something someone needs…organized or fixed…"

"I'll make some calls."

"Thanks. Lucy call you?"

"No. It's done…trust me."

He could see the exhaustion settling over Kate. The toll of surgery and recovery were obvious after only a few moments on her feet. She sat down in the living room while the kids that were there left for the day and Cuddy finished a phone call. The doorbell rang a few minutes later, Cuddy answered the door and allowed the lovely, completely statuesque physical therapist into the room.

Kate stood to join the therapist in her room for their daily session, gloating in House's direction as she disappeared from the room.

"Wilson just called," Cuddy said.

"You guys coordinating outfits for the next big get-together?"

"Of course, otherwise I never know what will go with his eyes. They're having a baby shower for Ann tomorrow night, I was going to go. You don't have to come. Or, if you want, you can ride up, and hang out with him."

"Sure," he nodded.

Cuddy took her luggage back into the bedroom and House picked up her phone to get Wilson's number. He saw the last three calls. One was from Wilson. The previous two were placed to, and received from, Simpson.

When she returned, he was so filled irritation he wasn't sure if he could even speak to her. After the numerous times she told him she wasn't going to work there, she kept going back in that direction and he couldn't help but think that again she would prioritize her work over their relationship in every scenario without fail.

When she returned, he told her he needed air and left. He was gone for nearly two hours and she thought nothing of it. After years of being alone, she just assumed he needed time to himself after all of the hours of nearly continuous companionship. When he returned she was on the computer in the living room, catching up on emails.

"Anything you want to say," he asked gruffly.

"It isn't time yet. I think 6 o'clock is when I tell you you're brilliant, and 7 is when I talk about how hot you are, or do I have them backwards again?" she teased.

"Are you taking this whole thing with us seriously?"

"Are we still joking?"

"No…no we aren't. I'm not, maybe you are. Maybe that's the problem."

"OK, I'm really lost," she answered with confusion.

"Are you going to go running back to Princeton-Plainsboro?"

"No, I told you I wouldn't!"

"I get the feeling like maybe your whole 'no lies' thing is a really big lie. At first I thought maybe you were just omitting certain things, and now you're flat-out lying to my face."

"No. I'm not" she said, assuredly.

"I looked at your phone."

"OK"

"I saw you were talking to Simpson."

"Oh…right…so you weren't _looking_ at my phone, you were _snooping._"

"It wasn't like it was well hidden."

"So…if I want you to respect my privacy, I have to hide what I'm doing. You want me to put a password on my phone? It's _my_ fault that you snooped?" she said with frustration.

"I don't want you to have things to hide. That's what would be best for me," he answered sternly.

"I don't have anything to hide, and I have no idea why you would even think that!"

"I thought I was really honest with you about what losing you would do to me. I made myself really fucking vulnerable, and for what. You don't care any more about my feelings now than you did before. At least then you were upfront about your prioritization."

"I don't understand…what…in the hell…could have been on my phone to make you think that way?"

"Simpson"

"What about him…I told you the other day when I thought about calling him. And then I didn't call him."

"Lies," he accused.

"Not lies," she countered.

"He was the last person that called you, before Wilson. And you returned his call."

"Did you look at the dates on the calls?"

"Doesn't really matter what the dates are, does it? You were still sneaking around with him."

"Those calls were _before_ we left for vacation."

"So you were plotting with him before we even left? That is supposed to make me feel better? You agreed to move in with me, you opened up about the past, and all along you knew you were doing exactly what I didn't want you to do. Exactly what I'm worried about you doing."

"Did you bother to take ten seconds to ask _why_ I spoke to Simpson?"

"I can't think of any good reason for you to talk to him. Because if it's an interim position or temp position, it's all just a stepping stone to get you right back in those doors."

"It wasn't about a position. Of any kind. He called while we were in LA. When you got back we started talking about other things, I didn't think it was anything that I had to justify to you."

"What did you guys talk about? If it's not a position…what is it? Are you consulting…"

"The stipend check, from when you and I went to help Wilson...he sent it to my place in Baltimore, certified. There was no one there to sign and it got sent back to him. He called to find out where we wanted it sent. I called him back and told him that we were leaving for vacation and to have it shipped to your address after we got back, so there would be someone around to receive it."

"Oh."

"Yea. 'Oh'…Why were you snooping through my phone?"

"I wasn't snooping."

"You weren't? Let me guess, you were just…looking through my things in order to collect valuable information…"

"I wanted Wilson's number. I was going to talk to him about tomorrow night. About activities for the two of us. Your phone was just sitting there, and I didn't think you'd mind."

"I wouldn't have minded. But you saw something and then ran wild with your misinterpretation. You could have just asked."

"You keep flirting with the idea of going back there…it wasn't that farfetched for me to assume."

"You are right…I was. But…I was honest about it. You can look through anything of mine, I told you, I'm not hiding anything. But if you find something that concerns you, you should ask before you get angry about it."

"Fine."

They sat there, still tense even after clearing up the misunderstanding. "Why?" she asked with confusion.

"I just wanted to call Wilson," he said, rubbing his forehead.

"Not that. Why would it be so awful if I did go back there? I'm not…before you start to think that…I'm not. I just don't understand why it would be so terrible. I already agreed to live with you."

"Don't agree to anything on my account," he said bitterly.

"I agreed to live with you because that's where I want to be. If you remember, I was the one who mentioned moving closer to you."

"Yes. OK," he nodded.

"So why are you so concerned about me going back there?"

"We are trying so hard to do this…you go back there, and things return to what they were. Soon you're working until eight or nine, some nights later. You're in there at seven in the morning. Then you want me to work there…and I go, because I figure at least I'll see you…and I won't. I told you I can't repeat the past. And I don't want to play a distant second or third to your career. I'm not saying I should always be more important…when I had a case, I know I was focused on that…there were long hours, I was distracted from anything else. But with your job, it was constant. You were working even when you weren't working. I'd just like the chance to try for the number one spot sometimes."

"You think you came second to the hospital?"

"I came fourth…"

"It was Rachel, which…I understand…Rachel, then the hospital, then the board at the hospital, then me. And remarkably often you'd throw in the needs of whatever pain in the ass was screaming loudest for your attention."

"That's…not true…"

"Which part? I have to be honest…I…like unemployed Cuddy. I tease you about it…but I like it. I'm not saying you shouldn't have a job, because you should. But…it's nice. You aren't stressed, you're around. Even taking care of Kate you have more free time."

"You must be joking. You…don't feel smothered?"

"No…I'm less smothered now than I was when I worked for you…because half of the attention that I got from you then wasn't the kind that I wanted."

"Sometimes…you really surprise me, House."

"It surprises you that a typically possessive man is possessive of you?"

"I associate the possessive part of you with the times when we weren't together. Not how you are now."

"I would rather be alone than be with someone I don't want to be with. I was alone a long time…believe it or not one or two women were actually willing to go out with me…if I wanted someone to waste time with when I was bored…I could have found her."

"I'm sure you could have. Do you actually think that I think no one would want you?"

He stared at her, blinking and pondering her words.

"I've wanted you for over half a lifetime, and yea, I clearly fucked up things with us from time to time but…I've wondered how it was possible that you didn't meet someone else. I'm not the one that finds your attractiveness unfathomable…you are," she said, affectionately.

He sat down on the sofa near her, still lost in thought. "And thank god for that," she said, with a hint of levity, while she leaned against his shoulder, "because your ego would be absolutely insufferable if you knew how irresistible you are."


	56. Chapter 56

**A/N-**_Thanks to all who have read and particularly to all who have reviewed since the last chapter: lenasti16, Suzieqlondon, TheHouseWitch, housebound, Asia, JLCH, dmarchl, Josam, IHeartHouseCuddy, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex, Bakerstreet Blues, KiwiClare and Mon Fogel._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>House was less than thrilled about going to the baby shower. He knew no one would expect him to play ridiculous games or fawn over miniature-sized versions of adult clothes, but the situation still wasn't very comfortable for him. He was never sure what to say to Cuddy about Wilson and Ann's accidental pregnancy, when such attempts at parenthood had been so painfully difficult and unsuccessful for her. She insisted, stoically, each time, that she was fine and he knew she had no interest in behaving that selfishly, nor did she begrudge Wilson a measure of happiness.<p>

He was mostly going so Cuddy wouldn't be alone before and after the party. He was present, but disinterested, while she bought an overpriced item from a registry at a baby boutique, uncertain why anyone had to buy the clearly well off pair anything. "It isn't like this is for a struggling single mother or a couple trying to get by working backbreaking mining jobs," he sneered while she paid.

"Do you think people like that would expect gifts like these?" she asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"People that actually need the stuff, have much more realistic expectations. I've been to a lot of these over the years…"

"Want me to hang out with you and the gals, help you with your party games and scavenger hunts? With our combined wits and competitive natures, we'll swoop up all of the prizes and leave with a perfect winning record. Wilson will survive without me."

She laughed with amusement, "I think this group is a bit uptight for you…we'll work them up to it. I can fend for myself while you have some Wilson time."

"I missed ladies' night with Wilson. You guys will be playing beer bong and shooting pool and Wilson and I will be crocheting booties and watching chick flicks," he said.

After they paid, she leaned against the counter at the far end, removed the card from the bag, and signed, in flowing feminine script, "Love and Best Wishes, Lisa and Greg."

He felt momentarily stunned at her automatic inclusion of his name with hers on the card. It looked odd but felt surprisingly good and he liked that she did it without making any sort of issue out of it. It just seemed…normal. In the past something as stupid and insignificant as that would have likely led to an uncomfortable conversation where both of them tried to avoid implying too much about their feelings, or too little, and half of the time would have led to an argument anyway.

When they arrived, the living room was decorated in all of the traditional ways, with pink, pale blue and yellow balloons and baby-related signs and adornments. People were fawning over the expectant mother in a way that made House sick. Packages, large, small and well-decorated, filled a table placed in the room for that purpose. Wilson appeared to have been waiting for House, quickly sweeping him away from the crowd. "Are there guys in there?" House asked, with horror, pointing toward the gathering, which included several men scattered among the women.

"Yes House, it's the twenty-first century, men do these sorts of things now. We're a new breed of men who are active, hands-on fathers who don't feel compelled to fall into those sorts of antiquated roles," Wilson said.

"New breed?"

"Yea, I don't have to subscribe to ridiculous male stereotypes to be a man."

"So why are you out here with me?" House said, as he scavenged over the food table in the dining room, filling a plate before the two of them continued on to the game room at the back of the house.

"Because you came to rescue me from the insanity. I may be part of a new breed but I'd still rather play Foosball."

House chuckled at Wilson's honesty as they settled in the game room. "I knew they didn't completely destroy you."

House marveled at the number of 'toys' Wilson had at this place too: Foosball, pool, pinball, gaming systems. As he looked around he said, "People said I was the immature one. Look at all of this crap. This room alone is every fraternity's dream house."

"It is. "

"This poker table…isn't nearly as sturdy as the one at the beach," House said, with a tone of disappointment, while he placed a hand on the table and shook it.

"Wh…what? Why would you say that?"

House just grinned smugly at Wilson and waited.

"You had sex on my poker table didn't you?" Wilson said, deflated and mildly disgusted.

"It wouldn't be like me to provide a lady with the ultimate in lovin' and tell…" House said, smugger still. "But…I feel I need these small revenges…it's the little things…to get back at you for all of the times you've run to Cuddy behind my back…or run behind Cuddy's back to me. If I want to be a good boyfriend I have to look out for her now too," he said with some levity.

House left his plate of food on a high table and walked over to the Foosball table. Grabbing the ball from the return, he held it up as an invitation and waited while Wilson took his place on the other side. "Play to eleven?" House asked. Once Wilson was in place, nodding in agreement, House served the ball to begin the game.

"I…have always looked out for you. Sometimes friendship involves doing things the friend might not want you to do," Wilson said in his defense.

"And sometimes it just means the friend is a horrible gossip who can't keep his nose out of your business. I think _you_ think you mean well…sometimes…that stuff caused more trouble than it was worth."

Wilson scored. "House, I really…"

"All of this amazing stuff will be back here gathering dust soon enough," House interrupted, feeling that he had said all he wanted to for the moment.

"Yes, because I will be the proud and attentive father of an adorable baby boy."

"Adorable? You're already questioning his paternity?"

"Nice…" Wilson answered as House scored.

"Don't blame me, she was already knocked up when I met her."

"What are you going to do if Cuddy wants kids?"

"I don't know. I don't think she does. We've discussed it a bit, she's certainly not eager to. I think…she'll tell me if she changes her mind."

"What if she said she did…would you be willing?"

House scored again and grinned victoriously.

"I don't know. When I saw how much pain she was in with Rachel…I would have agreed to father a child on the spot. No questions asked."

"Right…" Wilson said with disbelief.

"In all of the years I have known her, after everything I've seen…she was never as devastated as she was then. I would have done almost anything to stop the pain she was being swallowed by."

Wilson's mouth gaped, stunned by House's admission. "Really?"

House scored again while Wilson waited, stunned.

"Yea. You think I like seeing her hurt?" House asked.

"You used to do it often enough."

"I didn't _usually_ do stuff with the intention of hurting her. You should know that."

"An unfortunate side effect of your normal behavior?"

House forced a smile, unwilling to follow the line of discussion any further. "Cuddy and I will continue to do what we've been doing…decently well, I might add, and we'll figure those sorts of things out when they become relevant. In a few weeks I'll be busy having sex with Cuddy, sleeping in on the weekends and we'll be doing pretty much whatever we feel like doing. You will be experiencing the joys of constantly interrupted sleep, dirty diapers, and six weeks without sex…"

Wilson finally scored again.

* * *

><p>Cuddy picked at food and played games with the rest of the participants at the party. She was able to catch up with a few people from PPTH who were in attendance and mingled easily with the other gatherers. Several people at the party asked about her new boyfriend and nearly all who had met her before commented on how happy she seemed. She couldn't believe how much better she really was.<p>

It felt like she was actually, not only progressing beyond her pain, but truly enjoying life again. Over the last several months, something like this would have been crushingly painful. It wasn't clear to her just how often she had to don a mask, just to look like she was surviving, until she no longer needed the mask at all. One of the best parts about this event was that, although several people asked how she was doing, not a single one said it with that voice that was filled concern, and laced with pity. Regardless of the purity of their intentions, those questions always felt patronizing, doing little more than reminding her that she was _supposed_ to be sad.

Ann opened the card and gift, and when she came over to offer her thanks, she seemed legitimately happy for her friend. Cuddy wondered how House and Wilson were doing, and wished in a way that she was off playing poker and drinking, or doing whatever the old friends had decided to do with their time, instead of being involved in the almost ritualized gift bestowing ceremony she was attending.

* * *

><p>"You had a visitor at the hospital last week…Lydia was looking for you," Wilson said.<p>

The two of them settled down at the poker table after House had won two games of Foosball and properly mocked Wilson for losing, since he had the table available to practice on nearly every day of his life.

"Oh?"

"She was…exactly what you described…" Wilson said.

"What did she say?"

"That you were a brilliant doctor. That her sister-in-law, Annie, I believe, was doing very well. She wanted to thank you for that. And for some reason felt it was important to let you know that things with her husband were good. I don't know if she wanted to make sure you didn't get the wrong impression or if she just wanted you to know that things were better in her marriage. They were actually back here to visit family…she wanted to say thanks and make sure you were OK. Actually…she asked if you were happy…she seemed…to legitimately hope you were…"

"I believe that. What did you tell her?"

"I told her you were clean and healthy…and seeing someone that was really good for you…and she was happy. She said you were a good man…that you deserved happiness…I told her she must have the wrong doctor," Wilson added, teasing.

House ignored the jibe and replied, "She's one of the few…honestly nice people…"

"You have regrets with all of that?"

"It worked out for the best, eventually. I really cared about her…my feelings for her were the first real feelings I had after all of those years of drugs. I was truly hurt when things didn't work with Lydia, but…"

"Who's Lydia?" asked a slightly concerned voice from the direction of the door.

House turned to look at Cuddy, puffed his cheeks full of air and blew out slowly. "Woman I met while I was at Mayfield."

His own face, the concern etched on it, demonstrated that his words understated the importance of the relationship. She walked over to him, bent to look at his cards, laid a hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek with a gentle smile before standing up and walking toward the door.

"OK. I just escaped from the 'fun' for a minute," she smiled. "You guys enjoy your game."

He watched the door behind him close. "At what point did she walk in?"

"Dunno. You never mentioned her to Cuddy?" Wilson asked.

"In what context? When is that something that you bring up with a woman that you want to be not-angry with you?"

"In the context of full disclosure?"

"Did you provide an itemized list of your women to Ann?" House asked with irritation.

"No..." Wilson replied.

"It isn't really relevant to us currently. I knew that relationship was over. It had no impact on Cuddy and I now."

"Probably…but I guess it doesn't matter, she didn't seem upset. She didn't go stomping out of here."

"Oh…she's upset," House sighed.

An hour later, when the noise from the party died down, House and Wilson ventured back into the living room. All of the lights were out except one small lamp at the end of the sofa, and beneath thick blankets they saw Cuddy sleeping comfortably. Wilson had assumed Ann already went to bed, so House walked over to the sofa to get Cuddy up to return home. Except it wasn't Cuddy sleeping on the sofa, it was Ann. "Where'd Cuddy go?" House asked her.

"Lisa…she left a little while ago, I figured you were with her," she said, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Did she say anything?"

"Just goodnight…congratulations…normal stuff."

He looked at his phone to find one message waiting, from Cuddy: '_Girls night out. See you in the am. Love you_.'

House was worried. He figured Cuddy might be unhappy, depending on what she heard, but he expected that he'd have some time to discuss the situation with her after they left, and was determined to do it, no matter how uncomfortable it made him. In years past, his mind would have been immediately flooded with concern that she was either cheating or leaving him, but they had been through too much to revert to those sorts of thoughts. He knew too much about how she felt and the type of relationship she wanted with him to assume she could so easily toss him aside now. He didn't like the feeling that she was somewhere, feeling feelings that weren't pleasant.

It was reassuring that, although she was hurt, or perhaps angry, she didn't storm off in silence. She left him a message, one that even said she loved him. She was definitely one, in the past, to run off without saying a word, making sure he knew she was mad and expecting him to grovel his way back into her good graces. When she overheard the conversation she still kissed him and she told him she'd be back in the morning in her message so he wouldn't worry.

How could he not worry?

'Girls' night' led him to believe that perhaps Cuddy was with Kate. Kate wasn't able to drive yet and Cuddy left the car and the keys at Wilson's for him, so that option seemed unlikely, but it was a good starting point. He called Kate.

"You talk to Cuddy?" he asked as soon as she picked up.

"I'm fine how are you?" Kate answered, sarcastically.

"Did. You. Talk. To Cuddy?"

"No, why what did she do?"

"Nothing"

"OK. What did you do?"

"Umm…she overheard something. I don't have time to share this moment with you right now. Did you talk to her or not?"

"No"

At that he hung up. He didn't see anyone at the party earlier that he thought she may want to spend additional time with post-party. They were too far from home for her to walk, and public transportation wouldn't easily get her back. He settled down on a chair to think. He certainly wasn't going to go home and wait for her to return in the morning.

He made a list of her possible locations in his head. Was she with Julia, her mother, someone from PPTH, at a bar? He either dismissed each possibility as he thought of it or added it to his mental inventory of options. His face lit up when he realized where she was. He gathered what he needed from Wilson's and headed out.

* * *

><p><strong>AN2**-_I know, it's cliffyish…I'll update tomorrow, next chapter's almost finished anyway. Thanks "Truth" for the Lydia question/suggestion._


	57. Chapter 57

**A/N-**_Thank you to everyone who read and those who took the time to review: JLCH, Suzieqlondon, HeartHouseCuddy, Truth, lenasti16, dmarchl, Boo's House, RedTulipAna, Josam, TheHouseWitch, CaptainK8, Bakerstreet Blues, ClareBear14, Anonymous, KiwiClare, housebound, Lucas, bonneiyy77, Mon Fogel, Anonymous, Abby, HuddyGirl and CassandraDarling. I appreciate all of your thoughts. Lots of opinions on the last chapter…wow. Obviously you can't please all of the people, all of the time. Sometimes things in this story take a few chapters to work their way out, and the story requires a little patience, I've always tried to let things unfold at the pace I'm comfortable with. This little sub-plot goes over a few chapters._

_For better or worse, Lydia was the first woman he had a "relationship" with after he got clean and I tried to stay true to the show until the end of Season 7. We looked at the Lucas angle a long time ago…I felt we had to look at both sides._

_So…we're back to the story. _

**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>When he pulled up to his old apartment he was relieved to see a light on in the living room. He walked into the entryway, listening for any noises, and found none. The key was missing from above the door. Relieved that he thought to take Wilson's spare key, he opened the door and she was sitting, head leaning back against the sofa, feet up on the table, with an unopened bottle next to her. "Not too many girls named Jack…" he said, pointing to the bottle as he stopped behind her on the sofa and leaned his elbows down onto the back of it. "So where are the other girls at your girls' night?"<p>

"Girls' night was cancelled."

"You know technically you are trespassing," he joked, trying to assess her mood.

"I'll bribe you with sex, that should eliminate the feeling of infringement," she answered in a practical tone.

"Your warm up line needs work…"

"If there's a lack of warmth in my warm up line, perhaps it's intentional."

"I'm not here for that…and you know it. This have anything to do with the kid thing?"

"No"

"This about something I said?"

"That…and what you didn't."

"Why don't you tell me what you heard, and I'll explain."

"No, why don't you explain…and then I'll tell you what I overheard," she negotiated, calmly.

"OK," he answered, as he rounded the sofa and sat down at the opposite end.

"Just…before you get too far…I need you to answer one thing…no deflection…no cute answers. Yes…or no," she requested, her voice filled with a glimmer tension for the first time since he arrived.

"OK."

"Are you still in love with her?"

"God no."

"OK"

"You should know love isn't a sentiment or a word that I throw around lightly. I don't really think I got to that point with her. Feelings, definitely. Love, I'm not so sure."

"OK," she said. Her voice wasn't angry, or bitter, it was just flat. She looked sad although she wasn't crying. "In that case, it's up to you…tell me or don't. It must be big, in the midst of all of this, to keep it a secret."

"I was honest about having other relationships…or at least about the fact that there have been other women in my life."

"I'm not upset that you have had relationships with other women."

"Then what's the big deal. I'm here…with you. You've had other relationships…dated…why are you angry at me for doing the same thing?"

"I…am not angry. Not in the least," she said, her voice matching the sentiments she communicated.

"If you aren't angry…why did you leave the party? Why are you here in my old place, by yourself, _not_ drinking the whiskey you took from my cabinet?"

"What sucks is that you said you wished it had worked out with her. I just never really thought you were settling on me. I thought…you were with me because I was the one you wanted to be with…not because it didn't work out with someone else. It doesn't change how I feel about you…or the fact that I want us to be together…it doesn't change anything at all. It just hurt. It really hurt."

"I'm not _settling_. I did wish at one time that it would work with Lydia. But that faded pretty much the moment you walked into Wilson's apartment after I got out…actually, it started to fade the moment I walked into your office to quit…but…I was still pretty embarrassed by everything that had happened the last time I was there. But when you showed up at Wilson's apartment…it was like seeing you again for the first time."

"So…just like your wife, she wasn't emotionally relevant either?"

"She was very emotionally relevant."

"Ok," Cuddy said, inhaling deeply, with a pained expression.

"I spent years being numb…then I was clean, and everything felt different. When I met her, I realized I wasn't inhuman. I was capable of being open to someone. She made me realize things. She saw me as a good man…and I thought maybe you could too. I thought I could prove to you that I was good enough. I thought…that I was worthy of being loved if I wasn't a drugged up bastard. Do…you want me to tell you what happened?

"That's up to you."

"When I was at Mayfield, everything was completely fucked up. Everything. I was…alone…I had no one I knew. She was in…visiting her friend…her sister-in-law. We connected…and …it was nice having someone that cared …someone who didn't already know how fucked up I was. Our relationship was very brief, and over by the time I moved into Wilson's."

"So…why didn't it work?"

"She was married. And moved away."

"It's strange…after all of that drama between us…that you just moved on so quickly…" she said.

"I didn't just move on. When things ended with Lydia, I went to talk to my shrink. Felt bad for myself for a while…with her…I moved on pretty easily. I think you remember what happened when I lost you. Sort of a whole different magnitude of reaction. When I lost her I was sad…when I lost you…I didn't feel like going on."

"The hallucinations…before you left…"

"I think you underestimate the depths of my humiliation with all of that," he interrupted, "It was difficult enough for me to realize that I had feelings for you that I wasn't going to be able to ignore forever. The realization that you weren't in love with me…that I fabricated everything...I felt stupid for ever assuming that you'd want me. I knew that day in your office, the day when I finally gave up and went to Mayfield, that I didn't deserve you…that I _never_ deserved you. Then, when you didn't show up at Mayfield…not a single time …to check on me..."

Her head snapped over to him, "I was told that I shouldn't see you. That seeing me would be bad for your recovery. I…wanted to come. I called in for you…to find out if I could visit."

"Who said that you shouldn't come?" he asked angrily, "Nolan?"

"No…it was a woman…"

"Beasley?"

"I don't know…that was years ago. I…actually assumed you just told them you didn't want to see me, and they were making the excuses for you."

"No. I mean…at first I wouldn't have wanted you to come…to see me like that…but once I started feeling better…"

"Do you have any idea, how much time I've spent feeling guilty about Lucas? And now I find out I wasn't the only one to find some comfort in the wake of all of that disaster."

He started to argue, began formulating the terms of his protest in his head and then said, almost meekly, "You…didn't have to see that…you didn't have to see me with her."

"True…I didn't…but…I've felt guilty about that for quite some time…and it was really unfair. You did the same damn thing."

"I should have told you."

"If this woman…came back tomorrow…told you everything you wanted to hear…and you believed her…would you go back?"

"Do you…honestly…have to ask that? That's, really a little insulting at this point…" he answered.

"I don't _have_ to ask…at all…but, I want you to tell me anyway," she said, a smile creeping onto her face.

He grinned, "No I wouldn't go back. To be honest, I don't know if I would have even if you weren't in the picture…and even if she was actually interested. I told you once I saw you again…clean…there wasn't even a comparison. Seeing you was…amazing. Made me realize everything I wanted to fix myself for in the first place."

His words warmed her beyond anything she could describe and she scooted over next to him. "Really?" she asked, searching his face to find truth in his words.

"You've always been different," he said, looking deeply into her eyes.

"So have you," she said, smiling as she moved closer to him. "Come on," she said, as she stood up holding out her hand to him.

"We going home?"

"Not yet. First we have to take Regina's car home."

"You stole a car? That…is so amazingly hot. We need to do the Bonnie and Clyde thing…up until that whole being shot to death part. We can skip that," he said with a smirk.

"Nurse Regina, from Princeton, let me borrow her car. She was at Wilson's shower. I want to take it back, and then we can go."

"Go where?"

She reached up for a kiss before whispering, "Girls' night!"

* * *

><p>He waited in their own vehicle while Cuddy returned the borrowed car to Regina's, parking it safely in front of her house and slipping the keys through the mail slot with a note of thanks. By the time she returned to their car he had moved to the passenger seat so she could drive.<p>

They drove for several minutes in silence until she said, "At that party tonight…I realized something…something that really scared me."

"If you want a kid I'll do it," he said bluntly. "We don't have to play games or guess…let's just be upfront. Get it out in the open."

Her eyes were wide as her attention was split between the road and trying to look at him and she stuttered, "I…umm…I…what?" Her mouth opened slightly as she shook her head, clearly unprepared, "That isn't what I was thinking at all. You don't want kids, why would you do that?"

"I…want you to be happy."

"I wouldn't want you to do something to make me happy, and that isn't what I want. I'm not trying to change you."

"It isn't you changing me if I volunteer"

"It isn't really voluntary if you are doing it to try to make me happy…and if some part of you wants that…be honest, because, I'm pretty sure no matter what my mind decides…my body sort of decided for me."

"We can test your theory…hop on over," he teased, tapping his lap.

She giggled momentarily before answering more seriously, "Pregnancy for me…is a painful way to test a theory. I'm tired of the pain…physically, it's no picnic. Mentally, psychologically…that part is so much worse. Disappointment, sadness, not things I want to invite in my life anymore. I'm good with the way things are."

"Neither of us is getting younger. The window of opportunity here is probably not wide open anymore."

"If…down the line, we, as a couple, change our minds, we'll adopt a kid, maybe an older one. Lots of kids out there need homes. Stop worrying about this. I'm not sitting here thinking… 'damn, I'd be so much happier if I were pregnant.' I promise I've been honest about all of that. Stop assuming I want this."

"Fine," he said, still sounding skeptical.

"What did I do to give you the impression I was angling for a kid?"

"You were at a baby shower…you left to think…what was I supposed to think that you were thinking?"

"Not that."

"So what were you thinking then?" he asked as he saw where they were going. "Oh…" he added, softly.

She pulled the car through an imposing marble entryway and wound it along the curvy path. His heart ached for her momentarily as he saw the sad truth of the phrase, "Girls' night." The headlights reflected off of the shiny polished surfaces of tomb stones that lined the roadway for what looked like an eternity in the darkness of night.

When she pulled the car off to the side, she dug around in the glove box for a small flashlight and said, with a sad smiled, "Ready for a little walk?"

He nodded and returned her smile. They began working their way back through tombstones to the proper spot. After they had walked for a moment, he stalled, "Hey?" he said, reaching out a hand, "I don't want to lose my balance."

She walked over to him and took his hand in hers, realizing the truth behind his gesture. When his leg hurt she often tried to understate any help she provided him, so he wouldn't feel weak. Here he was, offering her the same kindness: support in a moment of pain under the guise of something completely different, so she wouldn't feel she was being pitied.

They reached the stone labeled clearly, 'Rachel Cuddy', the dates beneath, highlighting the sad brevity of her life. The stone was not elaborately adorned; in fact the complete simplicity of it made it all the more beautiful. Between her name, and the dates describing her lifespan, there was a small inscription, that could only be seen when standing near the stone. 'Cherished Endlessly, Missed Perpetually, Loved Eternally.'

House felt the sting of tears in his eyes as he pulled her a bit closer to his side. The reality of the scene before him reminded him of the how alone she must have been in the wake of Rachel's death. How she probably made all of the decisions regarding Rachel's internment alone, in a cool, quiet funeral home. He marveled at the strength she must have exhibited in those moments when she was called upon to deal with pain of this occurrence.

Her voice was heavy, as a few tears rolled down her cheeks. "There was so much pain. Beyond anything I had ever felt. Beyond anything I ever even thought existed. This was the last place where I really cried before I shut down. Before I stopped feeling anything. The day before I went to see you, I stopped here too. When I couldn't feel anything at all. I know it's stupid…I know she's not here…but this…was the closest I could get." He gripped her hand more firmly, silently trying to tell her he didn't find her visiting this place just to be near Rachel stupid. She squeezed his hand back, her other hand coming up to her cheek to cover half of her face.

"The day I buried her, the day I came here when I felt something for the last time and the day I came here before I found you…I was alone. I went through all of those painful moments, entirely alone. I came here the day that I found you because I wanted to know what she thought…about me going to find you. I don't know…almost…ask her permission. I don't know what I expected to hear. But I sat here, talking to her, and I couldn't help but feel her encouraging me to go see you. I felt like…she didn't want me to hurt anymore, that she wanted me to feel something else. I kept seeing her in my mind, with that picture of the two of you, or thinking of her playing with her imaginary friend with a cane," Cuddy laughed, sadly.

"This is where I started to heal again," she continued. "I came here that day and started the journey to you…the trip to the beach…our own metaphorical journey through our piles of bullshit…and we made it. And…you and I…we're good. We are actually good. Two people almost completely incapable of functioning adult relationships…and here we are. _We_…are exactly what I want to be."

She paused, allowing the words to hang in the air. "Me too," he said, his voice catching in his throat.

He let go of her hand and leaned down to touch the top of the stone momentarily. Although the summer night air was cool, with a slight breeze, the stunning coldness of the stone beneath his fingertips was almost shocking. Remembering the feeling of a tiny, warm person napping near him and comparing it to the cold impersonality of the stone placed in her memory, made the loss of her feel all the more palpable and intense.

"I'm so sorry you were alone through all of that," he said, looking up at her from his place near the stone.

"I am too…" she nodded. "But…I didn't want to come here to feel sorry for myself, or rehash old grudges. I wanted to come here tonight to talk to her again. To see what she thought about something. Someone at the party asked me what happened to Matthew. He wanted to know if Matthew and I ever…got engaged… I started to think about why I freaked out when he proposed. You asked me once if it was the institution of marriage or the proposer that made me freak out. I realized tonight that…it was the proposer."

House nodded encouragingly for her to continue.

"I'm not sure if it's because of how my previous relationships have worked out...my fear that on some level we'd fail and it would be _my_ fault, and I'd hurt you again. Or my fear that we'd fail and it would be _your_ fault, and I'd feel hurt again. Or most likely, if it would be a combination of both of our faults in perfect collaboration…that would leave us both shattered and empty. Maybe it's all of these things that made me want to do something to protect myself. I was afraid, every bit as afraid as I would have accused you of being. Every time I turn around, I'm able to see just how alike we are. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"I dunno," he said with a lopsided grin.

"I wanted to talk to Rachel, because I realized tonight that you are the only human being on the planet that I can ever picture myself marrying," she said, as tears now flowed from her eyes that were a combination of happiness, sorrow and love…of all of the emotions surrounded Rachel's death, the complicated history of their past relationship, and their current loving relationship. "I needed to know what she thought about that."


	58. Chapter 58

**A/N-**_thank you so much to all who are still reading, and those who are kind enough to grace me with their thoughts in a review: CaptainK8, lenasti16, housebound, IWuvHouse, TheHouseWitch, dmarchl, phyna, Bakerstreet Blues, IHeartHouseCuddy, grouchysnarky, JLCH, KiwiClare, ClareBear14, Suzieqlondon, Josam, Mon Fogel, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex, LoveMyHouse, Jane Q. Doe_

_My goal was to have this up several hours ago, but drat, grrr, gnar…life can be such a gigantic pain …picture your friendly neighborhood writer glowering down like a less green version of Dr. Seuss's Grinch from Mt. Crumpit (with a laptop). With lunch break upon me, and impediments cast aside…here's the next installment._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter contains mild adult content, marked (but you should read it anyway)_ :)_  
><em>

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><p>"What did you say?" House said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "Is this a hypothetical discussion…or…?"<p>

"It's not hypothetical," she said.

She shined her flashlight on his face, "I don't know what you're thinking if I can't see you."

When the light hit his face, he instinctively covered his eyes and turned away, grabbing the flashlight from her hands, "You still gonna want me if I'm crippled _and_ blind?"

Her loosely worded proposal escaped her lips before she even realized she was verbalizing it. She was nervous, her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and she felt a little bit dizzy. "Would you say something…anything at all, or are you just watching me squirm? I can't tell what you're thinking in the dark."

"Can't you?" he asked, as he pulled her into his arms. She reached up to kiss him sweetly, shaking, almost imperceptibly. "Are you…actually asking?"

She gathered all of her courage, "House…I'm serious, I want you to marry me."

He leaned down, very close to her face and said, "I'm in," before he kissed her.

"Seriously?" she asked, laughing tearfully, placing her hand on his chest and pulling back.

"Yes, seriously! I've hinted around it," he said, his voice light.

He lowered himself down onto the ground next to the tombstone and balanced the flashlight on an adjacent grave marker to illuminate a spot for them. She stood over him until he pulled her down next to him. "Did you honestly think I would say no?" he asked.

"I don't know what I thought."

"Are you sure? If you aren't ready for this sort of thing…"

"I'm ready," she said, "Although, I wish I remembered to drop down on one knee," she joked, "you only get to propose for the first time once."

"I can't wait to see the bling you'll get me!" he answered, with girlish fervor.

She leaned back against Rachel's tombstone and he leaned back next to her. "So do you think the kid would have been OK with this?" he asked.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't. She loved you, House. You were so good for her."

He inhaled audibly, "She…was good for me. I'm always going to wish I had tried harder with her…made…more of an effort."

She pulled his head onto her shoulder, his words meaning more than he could possibly comprehend. "I was there every day…and I wish I had too. There is so much I would change if I could do it over again. You did the best you could, and she adored you for it."

She kissed his forehead while his head remained on her shoulder. "My god…are we engaged?" she asked, with happy surprise.

"I think so," he answered. "You sure that's OK?"

"OK?" she asked with disbelief, "It's…what I want. You?"

"Definitely. What happened to 'marriages are for show and people walk away from each other just as easily if they're married'? Isn't that what you told me?"

"We…don't lie to each other that way. If I make a promise like that…and you make one too…we mean it. You were the one who said a marriage is as honest as you make it."

"If we're going to do this, I want us to do it right," he answered, seriously.

"So do I."

They sat in silence for a few moments, leaning back against the cool stone. Cuddy tipped her head further back against it, trying to feel Rachel's presence. He leaned his head back, turned to the side and breathed in her beauty. "Even when you are sad, you are honestly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

She started to scoff until he interrupted, "I mean it…" he said.

Smiling sweetly, she lifted his hand to her face and held it warmly between her cheek and shoulder. He could see the look of affection in her eyes and could feel the depths of her emotion. In the words of her proposal and her subsequent actions, he had all of the confirmation he needed to know that she cared for him as fully and deeply as he for her.

"Wonder what my mom will say," he said.

"You're going to tell your mom?"

"Aren't you telling yours?"

"Yea," Cuddy said, as she leaned her head back again, thinking.

"I want to do this…for _us_," Cuddy said, insistently after a few quiet moments.

"OK. Is this some sort of color scheme thing…or…you want to release falcons or something?"

She giggled against him, shaking her head. "No…no falcons…and I wasn't thinking about specific colors. I don't want to do this according to what my mom wants…or what friends think…"

"No problem…I think. What are you suggesting?"

"I think that you and I, working through all of this…it has been about us…and only about us...doing things the way _we_ decide we should. I think maybe we should keep it small. Quiet, simple…"

"You want to elope?"

"Not in the 'run away and hurry to get this over with' sort of way. I want us to plan and everything. I just want it to be about what we want, and not anybody else…"

She saw a flicker of worry across his face. "I'm not embarrassed of you, so don't even start to think that. We can tell…everyone under the sun once we're actually married. I just don't want this to turn into some sort of circus where everyone is happy except us."

"You don't want a big fancy wedding?" he asked, suspiciously.

"I want you there. And at the end, I want to know that you are stuck with me in a more formalized way."

"I'm good with that," he responded.

"There was definitely a time when I wanted the formality and all of the trimmings. People have these great big weddings, and spend tons of money on dresses and flowers and venues and they end it in a year…or a few days," she said, with a hint of self-deprecation.

"Or they're complete shams, under the pretext of defrauding the government, all while trying to elicit a response and inflict pain on your ex-girlfriend…" he offered, with a jokingly penitent tone.

"Or that," she giggled, "I'm sure that happens a lot. We can invite your mother if you want, or Wilson, Kate…I know a lot of this is for me, but, I want it to be for you too…"

"We'll figure out the specifics," House said, while he rubbed his leg.

"You upset? Your leg's acting up?" she asked.

"I've just been on it a lot, and I didn't take anything. I was busy hunting down my woman."

"Wait here," Cuddy said, as she got up from the ground and jogged down toward the car with the flashlight.

House leaned his head back against the tombstone and said to the memory of Rachel, "Thanks, kid. Thanks for thinking I'm good enough for her. That's a pretty tall compliment from you. I…can't promise I'll never screw up…but…I'll try. I'll keep trying to make her feel better…try to make her happy."

He could see Cuddy's progress toward the car from the spot of light cast from the flashlight that preceded her wherever she went. She got what she needed from the car and made her way back to where he was waiting.

"Thanks," he said, before she even settled down next to him to hand him ibuprofen and a bottle of water.

He swallowed the tablets and offered her some of the water to drink. They made their way back down to the car a bit more slowly than they arrived. House called Kate to make sure she was doing alright on her own and could tell she had a visitor who sounded distinctly male. When he hung up he said to Cuddy, "Let's go back to the old place for a little while, Kate's fine, she's busy soothing someone in their hour of need. Unless…there are too many memories there…"

"That sounds good, let's go," she said with a smile.

When they returned to his apartment she quickly led him to the sofa and kissed him with all of the love that she felt, trying to reclaim the space as their own, as a testament to their love and compatibility, and permanently banish the negative reminders of everything that went wrong between them. "I pretty much own you now," she said, slightly breathless, while she pushed him back.

"I didn't get a ring yet," he quipped. "What's really changed? You've owned me on and off for a long time now."

"I'll have the paperwork to prove it," she said, smiling deviously.

"You owned my ass at the hospital too…you had paperwork."

"Employment is totally different," she responded between kisses.

She wasn't hurried. She slowly pulled off his shirt, enjoying the warmth and feeling of his skin. He tried to quickly remove her shirt, to feel her against him. "Slow down…" she said, taking a line that was so commonly his.

He smirked at her, feeling like he definitely wasn't in the mood for a languid pace. He wanted to claim her, some part of him hoping that, if he did so quickly enough, he could seal the proposal and make it irrevocable. She stared at him, looking deeply in his eyes as she calmly undressed him. He was unable to avoid feeling unworthy of the pleasant weight of her affection.

"Cuddy, are you completely sure?"

"Not planning on waiting until the wedding night," she teased, as she kissed his chest.

"If you were, we've been screwing up your plans a lot lately," he answered. "I mean…about all of this? Just look at my liver."

"Wow, House, you know just how to turn a girl on, can we discuss your pancreas next?" she said, lightheartedly, undeterred in her attention toward him.

"I'm serious," he said, holding her hands still on his stomach. "I'll probably be dead in ten years anyway, the liver's gonna go at some point."

"Don't say that," she said, her face twisted with sadness. "Don't _ever_ say that. We'll just try to keep you healthy, we know how to do that."

"I can try, but you have to admit…"

"Stop, please," she said, her eyes watering slightly. "Don't make me move on to your death now, because…I am definitely not ready for that. You know as well as I do that anything can happen. Things can change in an instant…with either of us."

His eyes were filled with hesitant sadness. His mind consistently pleaded with the universe to make sure he would die first, so he wouldn't have to deal with the loss of her again, and yet seeing her face, and the pain written over it, he realized there was no acceptable solution to this particular problem. After all of the pain and loss she'd experienced, he didn't want to contribute in any way to any more of her pain. He saw on her face the mirror image of his own fear, and the sense of anguish at even the thought of having the comfort of the other ripped away.

In their own way, they were like a couple that had been together over decades. They were always connected, even in the years they were apart, carrying with themselves the wounds and pain just as truly as they carried their love and mutual concern.

"I try to be better but I'm still me," he said.

"Wouldn't want you any other way. I try and I'm still the same me…you're still the same you. Fucked up as it is…that's why we like each other," she said, sweetly.

He was lying there idly, his thoughts clearly distracted. His hands were across her thighs, thumbs stroking her through the fabric of her jeans.

She held his chin and directed his gaze back to her face, "Second thoughts?"

"Not at all," he said, turning his attention away from solving the problem of death and refocusing on her.

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

She pulled her shirt from her body and directed his hands to her back, encouraging him to remove her bra. "When I said 'slow down' I wasn't anticipating that you'd listen this well," she teased, flirtatiously. He sat up, removed her bra and bit down playfully on a nipple, eliciting the perfect shiver.

He craved that shiver. The gasps, the moans, her fingers trailing along his skin, or his hair…anywhere he could feel them…he craved all of those things. He was distracted again, now by her, his eyes watching his fingers trail along her waist and watching the prickled flesh that rose as the result of his touch. "You're lost again," she said seductively. "Let me help you," she bit down on her lip, her eyes filled with want, and moved his hand to her wetness.

He watched her expressions while she tilted her head back. The slight snarl in her lip when he'd hit the right places, her barely opened mouth. He could almost see the breath leaving her lips and then being drawn back into her. Her narrow fingers wrapped around his waist, just below the ribs, reaching further down to his back, holding him to her. Watching her was all he ever needed to become completely aroused, but he had that, coupled with the feeling of her on him, the sounds she was making and a feeling that was unmistakably present. It was an emotional connection that reached like an invisible tether, stretching across miles and decades and heartaches, but refusing, with the combined stubbornness of them both, to ever break.

He watched her, trying to learn, and relearn and commit to permanent memory everything about the experience of sex with her. Learning all of the signs and subtle nuances of the different states of arousal, waiting patiently to watch her experience ecstasy, he valued every moment of these experiences. She shook powerfully when she came, her hands gripping onto his sides, her head finally bowing as she curled downward, stopping the movement of his hand and pushing it away from her body, unable to take any further stimulation at that moment.

She was resting over him, her hand traveling from his neck and shoulder downward, moving slowly enough to give her a chance to recover, but promising him her attention shortly.

"What if I'm the last one?" he asked. "What if you are really stuck with me until the end? No more dashing able-bodied men, no more first kisses…just my grouchy self, well…my grouchy, incredibly well-endowed self…well…we're being honest, so…my grouchy, incredibly well-endowed, overwhelmingly virile self."

"I had plenty of time to sow my wild oats, thank you very much…" she said, with a chuckle… "I think I'm ready by now." She sat up a bit, "Wait…that freaks _you_ out, doesn't it?"

"I told you I thought I was losing my interest in women…that I was starting the dreaded decline. Now I'm in my fifties and getting more ass than most twenty year-olds…I am not complaining…"

"What if…at some point we outgrow this phase?" she said, as she opened his jeans.

"Not gonna happen…we probably need therapy for some sort of person-focused sex addiction…as long as we avoid the cure, we can continue to enjoy the disease."

She grinned at him, while removing the remainder of their clothing, "Can we work that into our vows?"

"Yes, definitely, that goes in after the part where we specify the number of blowjobs I get per week, but before we agree to the number of hours you spend cleaning naked."

She laughed again, "That's a lot of customization…I'll have to consider my contributions to the vows…"

"I'll write them for you…I'll be sure to remember the complete surrender of your free will to me," he said, as she crept up onto him again.

"Oh yea…I'm sure I'll agree to that one!" she said, as she guided their union.

His eyes closed as he enjoyed the initial sensations of being joined, the first moments as his body moved into hers before she was accustomed to him again. "Or maybe we should define our terms now…" she whispered.

"Whatever you want. I won't remember anyway."

"I'll record it."

His eyes popped open. "I'll remember you said that!" he smiled lasciviously, momentarily distracted until she began to demonstrate to him her knowledge of his body and its responses to her.

She moaned softly as she said, "How horrible to imagine…_dealing_ with this for the rest of my life!"


	59. Chapter 59

**A/N-**_Thank you so much to all of the reviewers since the last installment: iridescentZen, JLCH, jkarr, byte size, ClareBear14, Suzieqlondon, IHeartHouseCuddy, Josam, housebound, dmarchl, CaptainK8, huddyholic, IW, TheHouseWitch, Abby, Bakerstreet Blues, Alex, lenasti16, HuddyGirl, Mon Fogel, Boo's House, LoveMyHouse, Truth, Anon, Truth again, partypantscuddy, Lynnie5267 and CassandraDarling,and to all of those who are still reading…_

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD._

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><p>After their tryst in his old apartment, they, somewhat begrudgingly, made the drive back to Kate's. House had to return to work in the morning, and they didn't want Kate to be alone more than necessary. They were almost completely silent during the entire drive down. Her hand resting on his thigh, his hand atop of hers, they enjoyed the comfortable quiet of two people who felt a sense of happiness and peace. Neither had experienced that feeling often during their lives.<p>

When they arrived back at Kate's, Cuddy walked through the front door first. "When I go back into the office I'm going to talk to Altland about the…Cuddy?" he asked, distracted from his story when he saw her confusion. "What's wrong?"

Cuddy was stopped in the open doorway staring into the living room with a look of complete bewilderment. She lifted her hand up from her side to chest level and loosely pointed to the sofa, stepping inside the door and off to one side, so House could enter. On the couch sat a rather disgusted looking Kate, head leaning on a hand, with a very large man's frame next to her on the sofa, his head on her lap, sleeping. She lifted her head, shook it and scowled, while House was busy pulling his phone from his pocket to snap a few pictures of her.

After House was done taking several pictures, Cuddy helped Kate extricate herself from beneath the man. House was nearly doubled over with laughter as he watched the uncomfortable and irritated Kate get up from the sofa. Cuddy tried, unsuccessfully, to mask her own smirk at the situation, while they walked out to the kitchen.

"Shut up!" Kate yell-whispered.

"That's what you get for helping people," House yell-whispered back.

"Who is that?" Cuddy asked.

They saw movement from the living room as the man stood up and walked out to the kitchen. Face puffy from crying, shoulders stooped, the large man walked right over to Kate, leaned down to put his head on her shoulder, and hugged her, "Katie…thanks…really. You are…a really good friend."

"Oh…thanks…" she said, as she patted his shoulder. "You'll be OK, Jeff, you really will, better to find out now than later, right?"

"Yea. If you know any girls who are looking for someone on the rebound…" Jeff said, sadly.

"Umm…sure, I'll let you know if someone's looking for someone like that," Kate answered, wearing a look of confused surprise. "Are you gonna be OK, you can take my room if you need it for tonight?"

"No, I'm going to my brother's. I'll be fine," he stopped speaking and looked at Cuddy, perhaps believing that a suitable temporary woman was dropped from the sky into the very kitchen where he was standing. "Hi, I think we've met before," he managed, in a depressed, yet surprisingly flirtatious tone.

Cuddy smiled, shook her head and waved a dismissive hand, "Sorry…I'm…not available."

"OK," he said, dejectedly. "Thanks again, Katie, I'll talk to you tomorrow," he added, as he walked out the front door.

"You couldn't even throw the guy some sympathy sex?" House joked, accusing Cuddy.

"Is that Lucy's fiancé?" Cuddy asked, after glaring at House.

"_Ex_-fiancé!" Kate clarified.

"Did the bullet damage the girl-loving part of your brain Ka-TEE," House said, exaggerating the form of her name that he knew she hated.

"He's…really depressed," Kate answered. "He came over and needed to talk because he thought Lucy might be cheating. Then he decided _he_ was being overly suspicious and unfair to her...and started blaming his own paranoia for his lack of trust, I couldn't take it!"

"You didn't…you didn't tell him?" he asked.

"Of course I told him! What was I supposed to do? They postponed the wedding, but it was still going to happen. A guy that nice was about to be engaged to a serially cheating sociopath."

"A serially cheating sociopath you've been friends with for..." House began.

"Sometimes my choices are less than inspired," she responded.

"Did the bullet damage the rational part of your brain as well? What are you, completely insane? You told that man you slept with his girlfriend?" He was completely exasperated at the scenario.

"He understood, I explained the circumstances. He's a nice guy. He deserved to know."

"Agreed...in a tightly controlled situation, where you either arrange for him to 'find out' about someone _else_ sleeping with Lucy, or you at least have the sense to tell him when you aren't alone with him. I hate to break your delusion, but you aren't in the best physical condition to protect yourself."

"I'm fine, and he's a big teddy bear…he'd never hurt anyone. Now it's off of my chest…and a decent guy can move on."

"Sometimes we are very similar...and sometimes you are one of the world's most gigantic morons!"

"You're implying that the part that is similar to you is the unmoronic part?"

"There is evidence of that...You're gonna help and care right into an early grave. As evidenced by your recently opened skull and weakened motor skills. You helped and cared right into a gunshot wound," he said, with concern.

"Telling Jeff was the right thing to do. Oh yes, speaking of the right thing to do. Lisa…" Kate said, abruptly transferring her attention, "Who is your favorite lesbian psychiatrist roommate?"

"Do I sense some sort of trap?" Cuddy asked, with a smile.

"Two job possibilities…the Thyroid Center is looking for an Endocrinologist to fill in for a few months. They need a temp to take over for a doctor who is taking a sabbatical. Only about twenty minutes from here, nothing permanent, but something to keep you busy. The other is at Memorial…they are looking for a Physician Practice Administrator…right under the head honcho…so I don't know if that interests you?"

"Are you serious?" Cuddy asked, with excitement.

"Yea. I have the phone numbers, you'll have to call and go in to interview, see if something works out."

"Thank you so much!" Cuddy said, the excitement in her eyes over the possibility of employment, strikingly plain.

"I'll go with you, make sure none of the interviewers gets hands-y," House offered, as if it was a gracious gift.

"No, thank you," Cuddy answered, sternly.

"I have to protect what's mine."

"She's still a free agent, buddy," Kate said, with a wink.

House's face had an arrogant smirk, but just a smirk. No grand words, no gestures.

"You fucking asshole!" Kate yelled, startling Cuddy, who was busy fantasizing about future employment. "You got married? In Tahiti? You suck. It's bad enough that you didn't invite me, but you couldn't even tell me?"

"We didn't get married," he answered, enjoying her reaction, "We're going to though."

"You're engaged?" Kate asked, with a broad smile. "Fan-tastic. Lemme see the ring!"

She looked at Cuddy noticing her empty ring finger, questioningly. "Oh," Cuddy said, wiggling her ring finger. "I asked him. So…no ring."

Kate shrugged and turned to House, lifting up his hand to inspect his finger. "You expected her to buy me one?" he asked.

"You know me, I'm a slave to convention," Kate answered, dryly. "When did all of this happen?"

"A few hours ago, it wasn't really planned…" Cuddy said.

She hugged Cuddy warmly and turned to House, "Yea, yea, I know. You don't want a hug," she said, dismissing him.

He briskly waved her over to him and she grinned. He offered her one of the most perfunctory hugs in all of recorded history, swiftly stepping away from her when it was over, but the look on his face betrayed his feelings of affection. "Let's not make a habit out of it," he said, rolling his eyes.

"OK…so…when, where and can I come?"

"Umm…I don't know, I don't know and…sure," House said, answering each of her questions, respectively.

"This…is so cool…so very, very cool!" Kate said, smiling at each of them, as she walked out of the kitchen and hollered back from her room, "G'night!"

* * *

><p>When Cuddy woke, House was already at work. While she supposed she should have been grateful that he allowed her to sleep when he left, it just left her feeling lazy and desperately in need of a job. She found Kate in the living room, reading, and asked for the phone numbers for the two jobs. She set up interviews with each, and then cleaned the kitchen…everything in the kitchen. Kate sat partially awed, chatting with Cuddy, seated in an out of the way spot, while Cuddy tried to restore order to something amidst the uncomfortable chaos of joblessness.<p>

After the work in the kitchen was done, she went to meet Celia at the hospital for lunch.

When she walked through the doors, Celia greeted her with a friendly smile and the two walked to a nearby coffee shop for sandwiches. Cuddy enjoyed the woman's friendly company almost immediately and conversation flowed easily.

"I didn't want to eat in the cafeteria, we don't need that boyfriend of yours dropping in on our conversation," Celia said.

"If he really feels like dropping in, he'll find us here too…" Cuddy said, with a smile, as she reminisced.

"You are a secretive one…"

"Me?" Cuddy asked.

"Yes, you," Celia said. "Aren't you gonna ask my permission to marry my boy?" Celia burst into a loud friendly laugh.

"Oh!" Cuddy said, with pleased surprise, "He told you?"

"Mmm-hmmm" Celia answered, still giggling.

"Wow, I'm surprised he said something…I just…" Cuddy looked legitimately surprised.

"He seems pretty happy. You seem like maybe you are too."

"I am," Cuddy said, blushing slightly and surprised at her own reaction to the discussion.

"You know, a lot of people didn't like him…when he first came. Lots of rumors…I liked him though. Most people ignored him. He's just a wounded soul. There are a lotta those in the world. I suspect you're probably one too. He reminded me of my husband back when we first met. Lonely, a bit intimidating…My husband used to piss me off. Leaving food on the counter, his pants balled up on the floor of the bedroom, socks tossed around my living room, and those damn smart ass comments...and when we found out about the cancer...none of that ever mattered again. I'd do anything to be irritated by him right now!" she said, laughing.

"Sounds like you really loved him."

"I did...and I do...there's no other man for me. He's been dead five years now..."

"I'm sorry," Cuddy said, putting down her fork and looking at Celia.

"I had thirty-eight years of happiness with my husband, I'm not sorry. We have three kids, all beautiful, successful, intelligent…I am a very lucky woman. One son is a surgeon at the hospital. He came in one day, I brought him lunch…his favorite meal as a boy. And he was just horribly embarrassed. Left the food sit up on the counter where I left it."

"Why?" Cuddy asked.

"I don't know. He's embarrassed of me. I can't say that I blame him. He has a nice home in the suburbs, nice lawyer wife, nice car. I'm old, barely got my high school diploma. I live in row home in town. Take the bus to work. I'm sure you are embarrassed of your mother too."

"I'm embarrassed by the things she says…her…unrelenting judgment of me and everyone around her…not of her lifestyle," Cuddy said.

Celia smiled softly. "That day I brought lunch for my son, I went about my business, turned around and there was House, sitting at my counter. Damn big feet up, eating the food I brought for my son, as if it was the tastiest thing he had ever eaten. The jerk ate all the food, stood up and said to me, 'That…was delicious,' before he got up and left. The sheer nerve of him. But I liked him. I love to cook for my children. The other two children, I get along with them, they're good kids, they're good to me, but they moved around the country. I don't get to cook for people much. Started bringing in stuff and leaving it on the counter. Just once or twice a week. He _never_ failed to eat all of it."

Cuddy grinned at the story and the fact that it seemed so quintessentially House. "He likes to eat!" Cuddy interjected.

"He does. I started eating with him. Chatting. He actually seemed to like me. Or at least think I was interesting. I'd call him 'son' or 'boy' and then he started calling me 'mama'. Loudly. I think most of it was just to catch people's reactions, but it stuck." Celia's laugh was absolutely infectious.

Cuddy loved listening to how Celia talked about him in a way so many people didn't. As painful as a fresh start must have been when he had to move, Cuddy couldn't help but realize that people like Celia and Kate were able to get to know him with less of the history and stories that surrounded him at PPTH. Those two women adored him. While Cuddy listened to Celia discuss her life and her stories of House, she couldn't help but think that their acceptance of him, must have helped some of his wounds to heal. After all of those years, he had the opportunity to feel loved, to grow, to be OK with embracing some changes in his life.

"Now you, Dr. Cuddy," Celia said, bringing Cuddy from her thoughts.

"No," Cuddy said, shaking her head, "Lisa…call me Lisa, or Cuddy if that's better…"

"Lisa then," the older woman smiled, her brown eyes bright and pleasant with approval, "You…have actually made him happy. Don't …screw it up. You wake up every single morning, and you tell yourself that he is way too good for you…but you're damn glad to have him…and that you both deserve to be happy…because you waited too long to get here. Make decisions together. Remember to have fun. And listen…even when he pisses you off beyond belief…and I know him… he will PISS. YOU. OFF. And then he'll remind you why you love him, if you let him. He's worth it. And so are you."

Cuddy smiled, "That is really good advice."

"Before you think I'm being too hard on you…he got the lecture earlier, complete with threats of bodily harm if he can't behave himself. He's mine...I'll beat him if I have to..."

Cuddy laughed, "I believe that. You know it's too bad you aren't a JP."

"I was thi…"

"I figured I'd find you here," House interrupted, as he sat down next to Cuddy and began picking at the food still on her plate. "You telling her to play nicely?" House asked Celia.

"Oh absolutely," the older woman laughed.

"Hello," House said, leering over Cuddy, as he leaned into her personal space just a bit. "How is your day?"

"Good. I'm having a lovely lunch and _I_ have two job interviews this week," she announced happily.

* * *

><p>Later that night, they were going to sleep, or at least she was trying too. House couldn't hold still. He finally sat up, and she said with worry, "Is it your leg?"<p>

"No, I'm fine."

"Are you worried about me working again?"

"No. Those both seem like good jobs."

"What's going on…please tell me?"

He got up, his leg stiff from stillness, and made his way over to the dresser as he rooted around inside. He came back over and sat down next to her on the bed. "This is entirely optional," he said, as he handed her a small envelope.

"What is it?"

"Open it," he said, quietly.

He didn't watch her open the envelope. He looked around, scratching the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable.

She clicked on the bedside lamp and looked inside, finding a beautiful, antique, gold engagement ring with a small but perfectly clear diamond. "Where's this from?"

"You don't have to wear it! You don't _have _to wear anything if you don't want to...or you could go pick out something new. I just thought if you wanted to…"

"I love it! I'd love to wear it. It's so gorgeous..."

"OK," he sighed, with some relief.

"This is really unusual. Where'd it come from?"

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not, I was just curious," she said, watching him.

"I got it for you at an antique jewelers, last time we were seeing each other. It was…unique...beautiful. I figured…just in case. Then I thought, it was probably a bit too simple…probably didn't cost three-quarters of my lifetime earnings, or whatever the current convention is. Then we broke up and it didn't matter…I forgot about it. When we were at the old apartment, when you were showering, I found it. Brought it back here…again…just in case."

"Just in case?" she said, smiling as she leaned in for a slow, amorous kiss.

"It seems like you like it," he said, with a grin.

"I really do," she answered, holding it in her hand.

He picked it up from her palm and studied it between his two fingers and with an expression, asked her permission to put it on her finger. She answered with a small nod and he slid it on her finger. "Still fits," he said.

"You had it sized?"

"Yea. String trick. When you were sleeping…few years ago."

"Just in case?" she asked, confirming.

"Yea. Just in case."


	60. Chapter 60

**A/N-** _Thanks to everyone who's still reading. Thank you so much to all of the reviewers since the last post: __housebound, Anonymous, partypantscuddy, Josam, JLCH, bigboss, TheHouseWitch, IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, key, lenasti16, RedTulipAna, dmarchl, Irina, byte size, Truth, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex, ClareBear14._

_Probably won't post more until Monday.  
><em>

**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>"Endocrinology…that's like…hormones and stuff, right?" House asked, using a doltish tone.<p>

"Wow, you're super smart," she responded, "maybe you should be a doctor when you grow up!"

"Which job are you power-suiting up for?"

"Physicians Administrator is today, Thyroid Center is tomorrow."

He nodded as he watched her nervously readying herself for the interview. "It's good you're doing the administrator one today. Get warmed up on the lame one so you're at your prime tomorrow."

"Jeez, House, which one would you prefer?" she said, halting the application of her lipstick to ask him the question.

"I don't like to think about you 'administrator-ing' other doctors. You do that and then lots of others will have the privilege of ignoring your incessant nagging to fantasize about doing you on your desk. It's almost like cheating, Cuddy."

"Almost…" she answered, sarcastically, through an inadvertent chuckle.

"You look _really_ good in that…"

"I'll do my best to remain faithful. You know how hot I get writing up incident reports for personnel files. Hopefully I don't have any troublemakers," she said, with a sarcastically concerned deep breath.

She looked at herself in the mirror, straightening and perfecting her outfit and her look, while fidgeting nervously. He got up from the bed and watched her final preparations.

"You look tense," he said, temptingly, as he approached her, wrapping his fingers around her waist and sliding them down to her hips.

"Oh no!" she said, "I'm all ready to go and I have to leave in half an hour."

"I can definitely calm you down…release your stress," he said, as he kissed her neck enticingly.

She moaned before pulling herself away, "I…need to focus on the job interview. I appreciate the offer but I'm distracted and I won't even be able to enjoy it…"

"You'll be able to enjoy it," he said, confidently, "and you know it…"

She smirked, knowingly. "I'm going to go to my interview, and we can pick up from there later…when I can give you the attention to deserve."

"You don't even really have to pay attention to me…I don't need all of that focus," he retorted. "Look at you, I get near you and you start to get flustered. Your cheeks are flushed, my lips get near your neck and you're already ready…aren't you?"

She shook her head, pretending to argue the point, realizing that neither of them bought her attempts. "I am not denying my attraction…and the fact that you know perfectly well how to work me up…"

"Excellent," he said, as he approached her again.

"But," she interjected, holding up a hand, "I do need to go…without messing up my clothes or my makeup and without being rushed. I've only had one job interview since I became dean. I'm out of practice."

"I'll ask you sample questions the whole time…" he tempted.

"No."

"You are going to spend the entire drive wishing you took me up on my offer," he nodded, assuredly.

"Is that like a sex hex?"

He smirked, "Yes…that is exactly what it is."

"If that's true then I guess I'll really be in need of your services by the time I get home."

His eyes flashed, "I can handle that."

* * *

><p>She left for the first of her two interviews and he got dressed and went into work. He was almost completely unable to concentrate. Knowing that he would be fully licensed within the following day or two, he was both uncertain and excited about the future. Once he was licensed, what should he do?<p>

His job in research paid bills, kept him busy, but certainly wasn't fulfilling. After the small taste of diagnostics when he was called in to help Wilson, he found the desire to return lingering beneath the surface. Then…there was Cuddy. He wanted them to consider all possibilities, for once in both of their lives, they were tied to very little, geographically, she had no job and he had a job to which he swore no allegiance, so if ever there was a time for radical change, it was then.

He hoped she would choose the temporary position, so that they wouldn't be limited when it came time to make decisions. Of course there was Kate. He certainly didn't want to leave her behind too quickly when she was still recovering, particularly after all she had done for him.

House readjusted his computer screen and stretched, trying to focus his attention on the data in front of him, unsuccessfully. His thoughts shifted back to Cuddy, and their upcoming wedding that was, so far, planned nebulously at best. Part of him was tempted to throw her on a plane and get married somewhere far away before something could go wrong…because something always went wrong.

He was still a bit awed over their engagement. In all of the dreams and fantasies he had indulged in over the years, not a single one included a firm commitment that she initiated. He had thought about marrying her during some of his more confident moments, but part of his hesitation was always grounded in the belief that she'd be doing it because she felt obligated. He always pictured Cuddy wanting to get married, just not necessarily to him. He was baffled that he actually had the entire situation wrong, she didn't want to get married _unless_ it was to him. He knew if he had asked her, he always would have questioned if it was really what she wanted.

He tried desperately to return his thoughts to the work in front of him, when Lawoti entered the room and began typing away at her desk, shifting his focus temporarily away from Cuddy, to his near hatred for the doctor working in the space that had once been his alone. Altland burst into the room. "Your license…it's official," he said, with a fake smile.

"Great, thanks Boss," House replied, with equal phoniness.

"Now _Doctor _House," Altland said, "I feel this would be a fantastic time for you to find another department…any other department…at all…in this entire hospital, there has to be somewhere you can go to…let's say within a month."

"Definitely"

"Dr. Lawoti, if I were you, I'd do whatever you need to do to facilitate Dr. House's job search…when he's gone, the position's yours," Altland suggested.

Lawoti nodded. After Altland was gone, House stood up and walked past Lawoti saying, "Going job hunting!" as he left his office to sit and think with his video games.

* * *

><p>When he arrived at home at the end of the day, Cuddy was busily cooking. "There's a lot of steaming going on out here," he said, while he looked at the pots.<p>

"Yes," she said, as she quickly kissed his cheek and returned to working.

"Interview not what you had hoped?" he asked.

"They liked me."

"Of course they liked you."

"No, I mean, I think they'll offer me the job"

"Of course they'll offer you the job…it's like…Yo-Yo Ma auditioning for a high school orchestra…you think they'll turn you down?"

She stopped cooking for a moment to look at him, "I think that was a veiled compliment..."

"No…I'm not a good veiler…that…wasn't veiled. It was just a compliment. My license is all in order. I have to start looking for something else too."

"That's so cool!" she said, enthusiastically. He went to the refrigerator, but she intercepted him, handing him a drink and motioning for him to sit down, "Brewed iced tea. I made it. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes."

"So…the job interview went fine…but you don't like the job?" he asked.

"It would be fine, I just don't know if I want it yet. We'll see how the other one goes."

"OK…well since everything's fine, I'll assume that all of this nervous energy is sexual tension."

"OK," she smiled, sweetly.

"OK? No…what is it?"

"I'm making dinner…I can't sit still _and_ make dinner," she said, as she placed steamed vegetables on the table, moments later adding grilled chicken and brown rice.

"Yours looks lovely, what am I eating?"

"You don't like it?"

"Brown rice and steamed veggies are on my do-not-fly list."

She sat on his left leg and kissed his neck, before scooping some rice onto a spoon and bringing it up to his lips.

"Are you using your feminine wiles to get me to eat something I don't want to eat?" he asked, sneering at the spoon.

"Yes," she nodded, adamantly. "Try it…just try it…please?"

He tasted the well-seasoned rice and reacted with some surprise, "OK…that…is actually…really good. For the occasional dinner."

She speared a piece of broccoli next and offered it to him.

"I don't like broccoli," he said.

"Don't be such a child…try it," she goaded.

He tasted it and made a disgusted face, "I'll lick the flavor off of the outside, if that helps. The outside tastes good, the green parts still taste like broccoli."

"OK," she smiled and moved to her chair.

After eating for a few minutes he said, "The chicken is really good though. So is the iced tea and the rice…"

He got up to get his scotch and found it missing. He turned and looked at Cuddy admonishingly. "OK…where in the hell is my scotch?"

"Check with Kate?" she said, half-heartedly.

"The only thing Kate would do with it is drink it…" he said with certainty, "and she'd know to replace it if she drank it…and she also isn't drinking right now with the meds she's taking…you remember the whole brain thing she has going on."

Cuddy stared down at her plate, poking her food.

"I told you I'm not going totally sober. I told you that right away when I told you I was off the drugs," she could hear the irritation in his voice. "Now…where is my very expensive, extremely tasty, bottle of scotch?"

She walked to a low cabinet pulled it from the bottom and handed it to him. "If it's that important to you, there you go."

"I just want it. And this feels remarkably like you trying to change me," he accused. "Now, I'm not even drinking every day, so I'm pretty sure you aren't implying I'm an alcoholic…or is that implicit here too?"

"I'm not implying anything," she said, with frustration.

"Then why is this suddenly a problem?"

"It isn't," she insisted.

"OK…so what's next on the 'things I have to change about House' list you've been hiding?"

"I don't want to change you."

"Sure feels a lot like it!"

She started to clean up the dishes. He was getting irritated by her lack of answer. "This is all some bullshit trip down the road to some yogi master crap isn't it? You…gonna invite me to meditate and cleanse my chakras too?"

She didn't answer, she kept cleaning up.

"Would you please grace me with an answer, oh enlightened one?" he sneered.

She still didn't answer, which just infuriated him more. "You know what," he finally said, "You are quiet because you _know_ I'm right. I will never be your peaceful Zen boyfriend…and you're trying to…not so subtly, I might add, mutate me into that."

He stood over her, waiting for a response.

"I don't want you to be my peaceful Zen boyfriend," she said, confrontationally.

"Then what is all of this? What do you want me to be…"

"My _living_ husband. You're the one that said you'd be dead in ten years," she tossed the towel onto the countertop. "I'm tired. Goodnight," she said, as she walked past him to his room.

"Fuck," he complained into the air. He looked at his bottle of scotch and thought about having a drink before dealing with whatever Cuddy was thinking, but then realized that approaching her tinged with the smell of scotch might not be the most considerate follow-up move. He walked past Kate's bedroom, hoping to find her there and finding no one.

Wondering what the correct course of action was, he walked back toward his room. He didn't want to change for Cuddy, he didn't want to start down a path that would lead to resentment and anger, but he didn't want to willfully ignore her feelings either. Opening the door, he saw her, lying in bed in her business suit. "You're gonna wrinkle that all up," he said, already sounding penitent.

"You're right, I should have stayed out of it," she mumbled. "Shouldn't…try to change you."

"Well…I know you meant well."

"No…really it was pretty selfish," she answered.

She felt the bed dip behind her as he sat. "So what do we do? In this situation?" he asked, softly.

"I don't want to change who you are, I just want to be sure you're around…for me. It _is _selfish," she replied, sounding resigned.

"No…you were trying to help"

"I was…but…" she rolled onto her back and sat up.

"What if…we compromise…I agree to drink on the weekends…which…if you were paying attention is remarkably close to what I'm already doing…and…I'll…occasionally try to eat things that are really disgusting. I'll…make an effort."

"OK," she smiled, "You don't even have to eat the really disgusting things…just eat a bit less of those deep-fried, cholesterol-laden piles of what was once food. Try skipping the frying part. Maybe…occasionally…a non-starchy vegetable?"

"You are right about the deep frying. From now on, I'll eat my oreos and twinkies raw."

She rolled her eyes, smirking.

"I overreacted," he said, nodding.

"No…"

"I really did…I took it completely the wrong way. Sorry"

She stood up and started to remove her jacket.

"I love that word!" he said, eagerly.

"What word?"

"Sorry…I say it, your clothes come off…"

"I'm trying not to wrinkle them."

"Yea..whatever. Positive reinforcement maybe? A little treat for my good behavior?" he said, eyes flashing happily.

"Fine, I'll change in the bathroom," so there's no misinterpretation.

"NO!"

"I'm not trying to program you…that was a shitty implication," she said, flashing a sexy grin.

"I was kidding," he said, as she smiled, took a robe and walked into the bathroom.

When her phone rang, he checked the display and hollered through the door, "It's unknown."

She reached her hand out the door for the phone and he yanked her out of the bathroom, now topless, and pulled her back toward him, handing her the phone and swinging her around onto the bed before she answered. His fingers traced along her collarbone and the dip down at her neck.

"Hello," she answered.

"…" House ran his hands along the length of the unused arm, patiently waiting.

"It was very nice meeting you too," she responded.

He waited while she listened to person on the other end of the line.

"I look forward to discussing that with you, that sounds wonderful," she responded in a professional tone, while her eyes and facial expression conveyed to him her excitement at the conversation.

Cuddy listened to the caller as House traced her ribs down to her hip, watching her skin dip beneath his fingers.

He was shocked that she didn't push him away. She was shocked that his touch remained so chaste for such a long period of time.

"I can't tonight, I'm sorry, I have plans already, but I'd be happy to discuss it…say Thursday or I could even do tomorrow afternoon."

House mouthed at her to go ahead to the meeting, she shook her head 'no' while she rescheduled with the person on the other end.

She hung up and before she had the phone down on the table she was kissing him. "Seriously? You cancelled a meeting," he said, as he pulled away.

"Not really," she answered.

"They wanted to meet you…tonight?"

"Yea, to discuss the job, I'm going tomorrow, after the other interview, it's all covered."

"You can go," he said.

Her hand was incredibly insistent, so insistent that it was extremely difficult to continue speaking. "You want me to stop?" she said, breathily.

"Not really," he blinked, repeatedly, "but…does that mean now _you're_ changing for _me_?"

"I'm setting a precedent," she said, as his breath became shakier.

"I know! Now you're going to resent me!"

She stopped, grabbed his face tightly between her hands and said, with mounting frustration, "Pay attention. I'm setting a precedent with a potential new employer…so they know, upfront, that I'm not going to drop everything and run for them whenever they want. If it's not an emergency, they can work with my schedule too. Dr. Yo-Yo Ma Cuddy will do her sound check when she's good and ready. Not a precedent that has anything to do with you or our relationship. Got it?"

"Yea," he nodded, his face still trapped between her hands.

"You try to eat fewer deep-fried processed snack foods, I try to be considerate of our time together. It works. Right?"

"Definitely," he said, with a smirk. He slapped her ass with both hands. "You should apply as a peace negotiator. Forget hospital administration, start toplessly brokering ceasefires…the world 'round."

"Stop talking and get me off," she said, playfully.

"God you're so crude! I'm just a pile of man-meat to you, aren't I?" he replied, with feigned horror.


	61. Chapter 61

**A/N**-_Hi everyone, thank you so much to all of those who reviewed since my last update: CaptainK8, IHeartHouseCuddy, Josam, LapizSilkwood, lenasti16, Bakerstreet Blues, JLCH, iWuvHouse, dmarchl, LittleGreg, KiwiClare, HuddyGirl, Abby, Alex, Pdubou, momsboys and ClareBear14._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>The next morning, House walked into work with every intention of sitting at his desk and trying to finalize his study results before looking for a new job. When he walked in, Lawoti was sitting at his desk working. He stood in the doorway, watching her, noticing the way her eyes would shift up to look at him slightly, but would dart away again to avoid looking at him directly. He left the office, reappearing moments later with two cardboard boxes and a wheelchair.<p>

"You mind?" he said, gesturing for her to remove herself from his seat.

Once she left the spot, he gathered the items that he wanted from the drawers as Lawoti watched with great fascination: handheld games, journals, books, some random trinkets and toys and a healthy pile of explicit magazines. He quickly swept items from the surrounding shelves that belonged to him and thought of how much less personalized this space had been compared to his office at PPTH. He dropped the boxes into the wheel chair, nodded at Lawoti, and began to walk out the door.

He returned for one laptop. "I'll be working from another office…it would be hugely advantageous in my search for a new job…I'm guessing that's OK with you…right?"

"Why yes, Dr. House. It has been a pleasure working with y…"

"Right…" he interrupted, skeptically. "You can save the pleasantries, enjoy your time here alone in the dungeon."

He wheeled his belongings up to the lobby and flopped behind Celia's desk. When she returned from giving instructions to drivers outside she saw his wheelchair full of belongings next to the counter, and House, situated behind her desk eating a breakfast bar and drinking her coffee.

She scowled at him. "I knew to pack extra," she said, as she pulled the rest of the box of breakfast bars from under the counter.

"These are alright, but…you didn't bake?"

"The coffee was mine!" she answered, sternly.

"Look I'm homeless, can I crash with you for a while?"

"Oh, no. Who kicked you out…Kate or Lisa? We'll fix this up. You tell me what happened," she said, with a look of sweet, but determined, sympathy.

"Lawoti…kicked me out. I have no office. I want to crash at your counter for a while."

"You don't get to take my coffee because you get kicked outta your office. Go get me a new coffee, and then we'll talk"

"Celia…"

"No. I'm not saying one damn word to you until you replace my coffee," she said, before answering a call on the radio. She stopped talking abruptly, "And you had better…not have…your hand in my purse. You go buy the damn coffee with _your_ money."

House returned moments later with coffee for both of them. "Now we're all better!" he announced, proudly, before realizing the wheelchair was gone. "Where's my stuff?"

"I called patient transport, they took it up to Dr. Vega's office. While she's gone I thought that would be the best place."

"I can't crash here with you?" he asked with mock outrage.

"You won't clean your room," she jested. "You're way too sloppy to crash here with me in the lobby. I keep my area tidy, and I don't want people thinking those filthy girlie mags are mine. Please."

"I need to find a new job"

"Why not talk to big shots here…ask about starting up a department like you had before."

"They won't go for it…too much liability…too expensive…"

"Did you ask?"

"No…because I already know. Plus…people knew Cuddy was the only one who kept me within…certain parameters…the only one who would deal with my methods…I don't want to work for her anymore. It'll ruin the other stuff we have. I'd rather work at the bar and keep 'personal-life Cuddy' than work for her and lose 'personal-life Cuddy' in favor of 'professional Cuddy'…who is much less fun on the weekends."

"OK. So what are you gonna do?"

"I know...but it'll come to me."

* * *

><p>When House returned home, Cuddy was already there, sitting on the sofa with her feet up. "Two interviews…two job offers. I told them I'd let them know by Monday," she said, as she stretched. "What's in the box?" she asked, "did you get <em>fired<em>?"

"No, just relocating some things from my old office" he said, as he unceremoniously plopped a small box down on the coffee table, sending two of the magazines that were within scattering onto the surface.

"I was only gone a few hours…didn't realize you'd need so many _provisions_ for such a short time," she said, dryly, as she poked the magazines with her foot.

"Know which job you're taking?"

"Not yet…I don't know what I want to do. But…tomorrow I'm going to Baltimore while you're working. I want to get things cleaned up a bit. I was thinking about bringing more of my stuff down here since we're cohabitating. That way I don't have to run back and forth for things so much," she said, as she looked at him through squinted eyes and waited for his response.

"Really?"

"Yea. Is that OK?"

"Well, when I asked you to move in I was hoping you wouldn't take up any of my space," he said, sarcastically.

She sneered at him, "And…maybe we can meet Mom for dinner? I'll bring her down here."

"Dropping the bomb?"

"Yea"

"Do you want her to know where you live?"

"I would _really_ appreciate it if you'd be there. For me… _We_ are a couple. _We_ are getting married. I know you don't like her, but…she's mine and I can't change it."

He nodded, "Yea, OK."

"That's it?" she said, suspiciously.

"That's it. I'll do it."

* * *

><p>Cuddy arranged to go to Baltimore in the morning to pack some of her belongings. Kate nearly begged to go along, under the guise of being bored with her medical leave and sitting at home far too many hours of the day, although in reality she and House were concerned with Cuddy spending the day there alone.<p>

Cuddy set Kate to work boxing up books while she packed clothes and loaded them in her car. When Kate was finished packing up the books in the office, she wandered down to Cuddy's room and found her in Rachel's room gathering pictures. "She is adorable," Kate said from the hallway.

"Thanks," Cuddy replied, with a faint smile, before she motioned her in and held up another picture for her to look at. "And here…" Cuddy said, "Is everything we'd ever need to bribe House into doing whatever we need him to do. I'm saving it for the right moment."

Kate's eyes widened as she looked at the picture of House and Rachel together. "Wow. Actually…doesn't look as odd you'd think it would. He looks…comfortable with her."

"I think eventually he was," Cuddy said.

She showed her several pictures of Rachel throughout time, from the early pictures Cuddy took when she first brought Rachel home as a foster parent, to the pictures of Cuddy smiling proudly at the adoption hearing. There were pictures of Rachel's first day of school, blowing out birthday candles, and trick-or-treating in various costumes. "You two were alone a lot, weren't you?" Kate asked, her voice tinged with sad understanding.

"Yea," Cuddy said, after a moment's hesitation. "I guess we were. I mean we saw my mom, and my sister and her family…once we moved here…we saw them a lot less. It _was_ the two of us a lot."

"Must have made it even harder...losing her..."

"I guess," Cuddy answered, softly. "She was the one person who was always there…we…needed each other."

"Definitely. Parents rarely acknowledge how much they need their kids…how important that part of the connection is to them. Everyone knows that kids need someone to…meet their basic physical needs, provide affection…support. But parents need their kids too. It's why empty nesters go crazy. At least for them, they can see it coming…you didn't have the luxury of the warning."

"Can you wait here a second…" Cuddy asked before leaving the room.

Kate looked through the rest of the pictures while she waited. When Cuddy returned she held the clothes that Rachel had been wearing when she died. It took Kate a few seconds to understand what Cuddy held in her arms, but when the realization hit, Kate felt the onset of emotion. "Oh, honey…" she said with the greatest empathy. "That's…a tough thing to hold on to…probably a tougher thing to let go of…"

Cuddy nodded her head. "Did…he tell you about this…House…did he mention this?"

"Of course not…"

"It's OK if he did…I'm sure it freaked him out."

"I doubt that. It takes a lot more than that to freak him out. People often cling to something…"

"Do you think it's bad that I've kept these?" Cuddy asked with concern.

"Bad…no. But I think it's keeping you attached to that moment…instead of allowing you to remember better things."

"So…I have to get rid of them?"

"No. You don't."

"But I should?"

"When _you_ are ready, Lisa...You have to decide if...and when...you are ready."

"Can you take them for me?"

"Me?"

"Yea. Can you keep them for a while? Hide them for me, so I can see if I'm ready to get rid of them."

"If you want…"

Cuddy's face was pained as she tried to decide what to do with the garments. Kate led her to the office, pulling scissors from the desk drawer and gently taking the shirt from Cuddy's hand. She looked at Cuddy for permission, and once she received it, she looked over the garment and read the tragedy written in the fabric. After looking over it for a few moments, she took the scissors, and made a few cuts in the fabric, finally producing a three inch square piece of fabric. This piece was completely free of blood stains or rips, and looked as perfect as it did when Rachel put the clothes on that morning; a beautiful swatch of purple with edges of one of the butterfly wings that were printed on the shirt.

Kate turned to Cuddy. "Keep this piece."

Cuddy looked down at the scrap and smiled. Somehow, from that bloodied and sickening reminder of death, came a small, much more pleasant, memory of the daughter she loved so completely. Kate gathered the remaining pieces of the clothing, placed them in the bag where she thought they had come from and said, "When you're ready…you'll know what to do with these."

* * *

><p>After working on Cuddy's place for a few hours, they finished up and drove to pick up Arlene. Kate accompanied Cuddy to the front door and waited patiently after ringing the bell.<p>

Arlene opened the door, expecting to see her daughter, and inspecting the woman standing next to her. The older Cuddy offered a displeased partial smirk and said, "Well, you might as well come in."

"Hey, Mom," Cuddy said, walking through the door, "this is Kate."

Arlene sat in a chair in the living room and said, "So this is why you invite me to dinner. Let's just get the discussion over now and skip the whole eating thing."

"Mom…is something…going on…are you not feeling well?" Cuddy asked.

"Lisa, this is ridiculous even for you. You might as well just admit that you are still crazy for the limping jerk and stop desperately searching for a replacement."

"Replacement?"

"I knew one day I'd regret you not exploring this particular area of rebellion in your younger days. But a woman…really?"

"No!" Kate said, adamantly, "she just lives with me"

"Oh fantastic, thank you, whatever your name is. My daughter is just too afraid to do what she needs to do, and it's clear you are the unfortunate victim of her fear. Please accept my apologies and move on."

"Wait," Cuddy said, trying to clear her thoughts, "you think…I'm seeing Kate?"

"It's obvious, Lisa. I know you love Greg, so let's stop this insanity. I don't know what he did this time to upset you, but get over it and move on so this poor, sickly looking girl can move on with her life."

"Sickly looking?" Kate interjected.

"I'm…not seeing Kate. We live in her home. House…and I…together."

"So now you want me to believe the whole roommate story. Does anyone _actually_ believe that sort of thing anymore?"

"Mom, literally, I live with House. We live in Kate's home. She's a friend."

"I see, now you're concerned that I don't accept you. Fine, fine, I accept this phase of your life, and your bizarre exploration of a lifestyle that clearly isn't right for you. Now that I've accepted it, can you please go patch things up with him…"

"Wait," Kate said, trying to be the voice of reason in the situation.

"Listen sweetheart, I know you're caught up in their insanity…" Arlene began before she was interrupted.

"Damnit, Mom, House and I are getting married," Cuddy finally yelled, ready to end the confusion.

"Married?"

"Yes. Married. And now that we are getting married, you'll probably argue that too. I wanted to wait and tell you tonight, when House could actually be there."

"Why you have to call him by his last name is beyond…"

"MOM!" Cuddy interrupted, loudly. "Please. Not now. I was hoping you'd be happy."

"I'm ecstatic, dear. When is the ceremony and who is the rabbi?"

"We didn't set a date yet, Mom"

"I see…and you expect that his proposal is genuine, but there is no date?"

"I proposed, we didn't get to it yet…"

"Must you control everything? You constantly emasculate men with your dominating personality."

"Look, ma'am," Kate interrupted, "if she wasn't a dominating personality, he wouldn't even like her…"

Arlene cast an irritated look at Kate, "Do you really need to speak? I'm still trying to decide how you are relevant to this discussion."

"Look," Cuddy said, displaying the ring he had given her.

"World famous…and this is all of the ring you get?"

"I like it," Cuddy responded. She flapped her arms at her side, feeling the swell and overcoming onslaught of irritation. "This is _supposed _to be a happy announcement. I am marrying the one man you think I should marry. Instead of _being_ happy, we're here having this stupid argument."

"Settle down, dear, I'm very happy. I can't wait to go see Gregory. He is converting, right?"

* * *

><p>They dropped off Kate and picked up House at home before leaving for the restaurant, "So this is where you are living now? Shouldn't you and Greg be able to afford a place of your own?"<p>

House got in the car, listening to her statement and turning to Cuddy to share a smile of solidarity. He inhaled deeply, "Hey, Arlene, how are you today?" he said, in an overt attempt to sound friendly.

"What makes you think you are worthy of my daughter?" Arlene answered.

He looked at Cuddy with confusion. She forced a smile, "She already knows!"

"Oh good!" he answered, "Can I call you Mom?"

"No. You need to set a date and pick a rabbi."

House's eyes grew wide as he stared front, irritated by Arlene within the first ten seconds of seeing her again. "Right on to the next set of demands? No…'welcome to the family'…or 'finally' or anything like that?" he asked.

"When will I meet your parents? I need to see what kind of people you come from." Arlene demanded.

After an uncomfortable dinner filled with questions and demands, Arlene decisively placed her napkin on her plate and folded her hands in her lap. "Well, you're ill-prepared, and to be perfectly upfront, I still wouldn't put up with either of you. But, I'm thrilled you've finally decided to step up and deal with the fact that this…is the only option…for either of you. So…nicely done, I'm happy for you, or at least happy that you both finally realized how _stupid_ you were acting. Lisa, you're going to be settled before you're fifty. I suppose that's an accomplishment."

"Thanks, Mom," House said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't call me that. Ever. And really…both of you…let's not screw this up. I'll help you get this all planned so we can get this show on the road."


	62. Chapter 62

**A/N-**_Thank you so much for all of you who continue to read, even though many of you are really unhappy with the actual show at this point. To all of those who reviewed: JLCH, Josam, TheHouseWitch, LapizSilkwood, lenasti16, key, housebound, IHeartHouseCuddy, Boo's House, CaptainK8, ClareBear14, iridescentZEN, byte size, IWuvHouse, Abby, Mon Fogel, Alex, dmarchl, HuddyGirl, Bakerstreet Blues and partypantscuddy…thank you all for taking the time to tell me what you think. _

_iridescentZEN…thanks for catching my mistake and letting me know (one little word can really change the meaning) :)_

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter includes mild adult content._

* * *

><p>"How is it possible that you don't have your own mother's telephone number? What if there is an emergency and you need to reach her?" Arlene asked in the car as they drove her back to her home after dinner.<p>

"Telepathy," House responded.

"You just don't want me to talk to your mother," Arlene continued.

"_That_ is a distinct possibility."

"I don't know, Lisa, you can learn a lot about how a man will treat his wife by how he treats his mother."

"I already know how he treats me," Cuddy answered.

"And yet, you're marrying him anyway."

"Weren't you the one pushing me to get in touch with him again…and once I did, you told me he's the only man for me!" Cuddy replied.

"He is, I guess it's more of a commentary on you and your relationships than on him as prospective husband. So I'll meet your parents at the wedding?"

"My dad's dead…which is also probably a commentary on Cuddy and her relationships…nice going, woman, way to have my dad all dead," House accused, with a grin toward the clearly frustrated, driving Cuddy.

"Who will be performing the ceremony, since you are too good for anyone I've suggested," Arlene asked.

"Just a small ceremony, Mom. A JP, a few people, a nice location," Cuddy said as she pulled in front of her mother's house to let her out of the car.

"All this for a slipshod wedding? Are you even changing your name? If you try hard enough it will be like you aren't even _really_ married," Arlene added.

Cuddy leaned forward and thumped her head gently against the steering wheel. "I'll let you know what we decide, Mom."

"I'll have your sister send you all of the information for the place where she had her reception, so that, when you come to your senses, you can book some place decent."

Arlene closed the car door and they waited patiently while she entered her home. House smirked at the forced, pained grin on Cuddy's face. "I release you," Cuddy said, calmly, "No human being should have to deal with all of this."

House chuckled, "Love Muffin," he said with sickening sweetness, "the worst thing about you isn't your _mother_…"

Her pained grin turned to a smile as she laughed at his jibe. "Gee, thanks Schnookems," she answered with the same saccharine tone.

"You still want to do all of this?"

"Yea. You?" she asked.

"Definitely," he answered, resolutely.

"Do you want to elope? I'd definitely do that instead of dealing with all of this," she offered.

He sat back and gazed out the windshield, thoughtfully. "I think you are just reacting to your mother and her insanity. We'll do what we want, and she can deal with it. At least she knows now."

"What if I _want_ elope…what if that _is_ what we want?"

"If that's what you want to do, then it will probably still be what you want to do in a day or two and we can decide then."

Cuddy's phone rang. "Simpson," House said, as he looked at the display and put the phone on speaker.

Cuddy scowled at him for accepting a call she wanted to ignore. "Hey Ron."

"I understand you met with Harris today…from Memorial," Simpson said, his voice filling the car from the phone.

"Yes… I told you, I'm not interested in returning to Princeton, I just…don't want to be dean again."

"I know…I actually have an offer for you and House. Any chance the two of you could take some time to meet with me and a few other folks?"

House looked over at Cuddy, suspicious of the call. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, "What…other folks?" she asked, pulling over to the side of the road.

"Harris, from Memorial, a rep from Penn and a donor…Lisa, you know I wouldn't waste your time. If you're still in touch with House, could you talk to him for us? We'd like to talk, but we need to talk to both of you."

"Both of us…or House, and you're using me to bring him in?" Cuddy asked.

"No definitely both of you," Simpson assured her.

She looked at House, wordlessly asking him if he was interested in the meeting. "You know I expect dinner before I put out, right _Ron,_" House interjected.

"Oh…good, you're there," Simpson said. They could hear him trying to sound pleased to talk to House. "Can you guys meet tomorrow…Let's say lunch?"

House and Cuddy looked at each other and nodded their agreement.

"Sure, we'll be there," Cuddy answered for both of them.

"Oh, wait…lunch, someone will have to talk to my boss for me…Altland…I'm supposed to be working tomorrow and I just_ hate_ to upset the people I work for," House said, feigning concern.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Simpson said, already irritated with the discussion with House. "I'll make sure my contact at Penn takes care of that for you. Is that acceptable?"

"Sure, I guess," House answered, allowing himself to sound hesitant to accept the offer.

After they ended the call he asked, "Any idea what all of this is about? Did Harris say something today during your interview?"

"No. He didn't," she replied, honestly. "It has to be about a case. I'm guessing someone else wants you for your mind. You're licensed again, there's a wealthy donor willing to pay for you to save a family member in need...and there's an interim dean hoping for the huge influx of cash that could bring his hospital."

"So…they're thinking we can talk each other back into our old jobs?" he asked.

"I don't know. If it was just Simpson…sure. But three different hospitals…that's the weird part."

* * *

><p>When they returned home later that night she reached into her jeans pocket, pulled something out, and started fidgeting with it.<p>

"What's that?" he asked.

She placed the scrap of cloth in his hand. He inspected it, initially uncertain of what it was, until he turned it over and saw the edges of screen printed butterflies. The images of Rachel's tattered clothing, which were infinitely burned in his head, came flooding forward. "Did you get rid of the rest?" he asked, with concern.

"Not yet. But…soon. I know what I want to do."

"What?"

"I want to think about it a bit more…but…see if Kate needs you to work at the bar this weekend or not. If you're free, we're gonna take a little road trip. We'll be back in time for you to go to work on Monday morning."

He handed the scrap of fabric back to her, running his finger down along hers gently, barely making contact with her skin. The touch sent her hurdling back to the night when she first sought him out at Kate's bar, and his early attempts to comfort her after he heard what happened.

She startled him with the speed with which she pulled him into a hug, and how tightly she gripped onto him. Grateful that now, she not only acknowledged that she needed him, but she could have him, and that they were no longer at war with each other. She wasn't sure how many times in history, two people who had been left so devastated by life were able to rebound from their pain, not only to find themselves, but to find love. He sat back when she finally let go, "You OK?" he asked.

"Yea…actually…I am," she stated, firmly. "Go find Kate and see if you need to work this weekend or if we can take a little jaunt."

They couldn't find Kate at home, and House knew she was probably working. House and Cuddy headed down the road to the bar to find her. When they walked in, Kate was happily slinging drinks and laughing behind the bar, holding still like a deer in headlights when she realized they caught her working. She leaned back against the stool that was behind the bar for House. "Liar!" he accused. "aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"I am. I'm resting. This is easy. I'm fine," she said, quickly dismissing his concerns.

Cuddy went back to the office to help the manager with some questions she had on the new bookkeeping system, leaving House to discuss things with Kate.

"You need me around this weekend?" he asked.

"Nope. The new staff here are doing fine. Why…where ya going?"

"I don't know…Cuddy's surprising me, I guess. You sure it's OK if I go? I know I haven't been around as much…"

"You're good…I promise. Enjoy."

"I haven't been working off my rent here, lately…" he said, penitently.

"Stop worrying, House. We're fine. One day, when the world remembers how fucking brilliant you are…I know you'll remember me. Besides, do you think I don't know how much you guys have helped me?"

He smiled almost sadly at her, feeling that perhaps he was neglecting his friend. "So…you went to Cuddy's old place today. Helped her?"

"Yea," Kate said as she wiped down the surface of the bar.

"She showed me the clothes…you did good. That was smart," he complimented.

Kate flashed a brief smile and continued her work. "What did she tell you…about all of that?" he asked.

Kate smiled again, quickly, but ignored the question. "OK, what did the two of you get into today?" he pressed further.

"Umm…hours of sexual exploration and gratification…culminating in a deliciously bacchanalian event whereby women of the highest caliber gathered together…" she stopped suddenly and winked, "ah never mind, you wouldn't be interested in hearing about all of _that_!"

He looked over her face intently, "You aren't going to tell me what you discussed…are you?"

Kate looked down at the bar. "She's my friend now too…I can't just…"

He held out a hand, "It's fine. She's…OK though, right?"

"If I thought it was something that would hurt either of you…I'd tell you. You'll have to trust me."

"Without question," he answered, "although…you know I'm always going to want to know…pretty much everything...I'm a nosy bastard."

"Ask her…she'll tell you," Kate responded. "If you needed to know, I'd tell you."

House smirked. Although he was slightly frustrated, there was something about the fact that Kate wouldn't betray a confidence, even for him, that made him trust her all the more. "I knew I shouldn't have let you hang out with Cuddy. I hate sharing," he added, jokingly.

Kate zipped down the bar to take care of patrons at the other end. She clearly favored one side, used one arm much less, but was already adept at hiding that fact from the casual observer. She had a slight limp, which seemed to improve almost by the day, and he knew she spent hours in physical therapy to get that far. Her success in recovering from both a broken heart, and a broken body, filled him with a sense of admiration. "You're an idiot!" he exclaimed when she got near.

"You're pissed because I won't blab behind your girlfriend's back?"

"No, you're an idiot because you are letting two doctors live with you for free. Who in the hell does that?"

"Lisa gave me money. You can give me some, if you feel bad about it."

"I don't feel bad about it, I just think you're an idiot."

"Have fun on your trip…asshole," Kate said with a smirk.

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

After they went home, Cuddy was looking through the closet in the spare room, which Kate had given her to store her clothing. When she returned to their room, she thought House was sleeping on the bed on top of the covers. She took a long, relaxing shower, and when she hopped out from behind the curtain, she found him sitting on the counter by the sink. "How long were you in here?" she asked, somewhat startled when she saw him.

"Since you started"

"Why?"

"I was watching your silhouette in the shower. Always amazing."

"You are so strange," she said as she toweled off.

"It's not my fault you have a perfect body," he said as he watched her.

"I'm too tired tonight," she warned him.

"I'm just watching you," he said calmly, observing without leering.

She stood in front of the mirror, just off to his side, wiped off the glass with her towel, and slathered moisturizer on her face. She tried to act as if he wasn't there watching her, but it was impossible to ignore his piercing glance, even if he wasn't sitting directly next to her.

When she finished moisturizing and brushing her teeth, all while he watched without reaction, she saw him lift his hand from the counter and toward her. She sighed softly, hoping to feel his touch despite her attempts to seem disinterested. His hand lifted slowly, she could feel it: by her elbow, along her upper arm, skirting across her shoulder and toward her neck, the skin of his fingers and hands never touching her own soft, damp skin by the slightest hairbreadth.

She could sense his fingers extending out from his hand, one finger finally touching her cheek just above her jawbone and rubbing in an errant streak of lotion that wasn't absorbed by her skin. "Missed some," he said, quietly.

She exhaled with disappointment before leaning over to kiss him, patiently. She tried to exercise the same precision, the same casual, relaxed pace he treated her with moments earlier, neither escalating the affection. She took his hand and led him into the bedroom, smirking knowingly.

He sat next to her on the bed, encouraging her to roll over. His hands were on the small of her back, mirrored on either side of her spine. They crept up, pressing deeply, thoroughly, along her skin, releasing the tension in the long, narrow muscles running down her back. He fastidiously paid attention to each muscle along her back, shoulders and neck before moving to her arms. He helped her roll over with a warming smile, and offered the same attention to her torso, carefully avoiding her breasts and paying attention to other areas he often neglected.

"You know, before, you never once gave me a massage like this," she noted without judgment.

"I know," he responded, barely above a whisper. "I was painfully aware of that post-breakup. I've learned to appreciate different things."

His hands slid around her ankles, methodically working her calves and releasing all of the tightness in those muscles too. He worked on her calves for a few more moments and skated further up to her thighs, watching how she allowed them to part slightly, noticing the unspoken invitation within the action. In contrast to her actions, she said, "You know I said I'm tired, right? And we have a meeting tomorrow."

"I know," he answered, "I remembered that I like to nap during meetings, so I figured I could stay up extra, extra late."

His fingers bypassed her growing heat, moving instead to her hips and stomach, paying careful homage to her remaining muscles. His hands were soon not on her body, and she waited with growing anticipation for his next move. She wondered if she'd find his hips between her thighs, or she'd soon feel the pleasant warmth of his mouth on her, of the sensation of his hands parting her thighs more fully so he'd have access to her. Her breathing became shallower, more rapid, and the expectation grew with each passing second. She felt the bed move under his weight, felt his hands press down into the bed near her shoulder and felt the warmth of his breath against her neck. He kissed her neck once, a mere peck, and whispered, "Nighty-night" and rolled over, facing away from her.

Her eyes shot open with frustration. She knew his game. She knew, that he knew, at this point, she was painfully aroused. She wanted to let it go. She wanted him to think he hadn't won this time. But he was next to her, and everything about his presence reminded her of her powerful attraction to him. She closed her eyes, and snippets of memories from the hundreds of times they had engaged in some sort of sexual activity flooded her head. She could feel the memories of moans, grasps and gasps, frenzied lunges and gradual ascents and nothing in her mind would satisfy the needs of her body like the person lying serenely next to her. While she knew he was aware of the impact of his actions, and the aching as a result of his attention and then his absence, she doubted he knew exactly how harried and frantic her thoughts were.

She heard his breathing slow and realized he was asleep, until there was the strangest hitch in the rhythm, and she knew he was lying there, waiting.

He knew at any moment she'd swoop in next to him, wrap her arms around him and make a move. He could hear her shift in their bed and heard the smallest sigh shiver from her lips. He felt slight movement behind him, and knew she must have been trying to ease the tension without him. He listened for her, waiting for the perfect moment to let her know he was still awake. He felt the pillow dip as she tilted her head back and he hurriedly flipped over and found her lying with her hands folded tightly over her belly button, giggling at him.

"I'm a remarkably good at faking things…you'd know this if you were lousier in bed," she said with a grin.

He shook his head for a moment before he gripped her wrists tightly and pushed them over her head, pinning them with his left hand. He slid up and out of his loose pajama pants, using his right hand to push them down and hovering over her. She smoothly wrapped her legs up around his waist and pulled him toward her.

"You don't really need me for this…do you?" he taunted.

"Need…no…I guess not. Want…definitely…" at that he slid into her, both of them quivering somewhat at the feeling.

He moved his right hand up so each of his hands held one of her wrists. Initially he enjoyed pinning her there, controlling her range of motion. "Sometimes I swear this is all a dream," she said before trying to lift high enough to kiss him. He allowed her lips to move against his for a moment but felt distracted by her words.

"Don't say that…" he said, clearly disturbed by the very concept.

She looked up at him, realizing how many times his reality had been twisted, and things he thought to be true were figments of his often troubled mind. "I…wasn't thinking," she answered, concerned she had broken he mood.

She wiggled one hand free and roughly pinched his waist. He complained, "What the hell?"

He took her hand back and held it at the wrist more firmly above her head. "Wanted to make sure you knew it wasn't a dream," she said, her eyes dancing in the barely present light.

"God you're such a jerk sometimes," he exclaimed, chuckling slightly on the last two words.

"Am I?" she asked, as she lifted her head from the pillow again to pull him into a kiss. "This…" she said, as she tightened her legs around him, "is way too good to be a dream."

* * *

><p>Later when they were drifting off to sleep, he said, "How did the unluckiest guy in the world…suddenly get so lucky?"<p>

"Perhaps you drastically lowered your standards," she said, in an oddly self-deprecating moment.

He peeked under the covers, "Go look in the mirror and try to say that again."

She giggled, "Stop worrying, I promise…this…is real. I think we've earned a little happiness."

"Next time I worry that I'm too lucky, I'll just call my future mother-in–law."

"That's what I always do!" she replied.

"What do you think Simpson wants?" he asked.

"Get some sleep…we'll know in a few hours," she yawned.


	63. Chapter 63

**A/N-**_Thank you to all of this installment's reviewers: CaptainK8, lenasti16, IHeartHouseCuddy, JLCH, Bakerstreet Blues, TheHouseWitch, housebound, KiwiClare, dmarchl, Josam, J. S. Elster, Clarebear14, southpaw2, Abby, HuddyGirl and Alex. Thanks also to all those who read._

_Thanks to JLCH for talking through some of the logistics of this chapter with me way back in the day.  
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**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD. I still don't know anything about the world of medicine, so my apologies for any mistakes.  
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><p>When House and Cuddy arrived at the restaurant for lunch, he was amazed by the dramatic shift in her as her professional side emerged in earnest. They make quick introductions around the table, Simpson, Noelle Becker, who was an Assistant Dean at Penn, and Jack Harris from Memorial, all introduced themselves.<p>

"What an honor. It's such a pleasure to finally meet you. Your reputation is, shall we say…without parallel," Becker said, extending a hand to House.

He looked at her hand for a few moments and replied, "We worked in the same building for the last…what…two and half years. Strange you never took the opportunity to meet me before."

He glanced over at Cuddy to receive the expected reprimanding look, only to find that she let the comment go largely unnoticed. "And, Dr. Lisa Cuddy," Becker turned her attention, "we've never officially met. The east coast's finest dean…"

"Former dean," Cuddy responded with a professionally cool hand shake and tone.

"Harrison Medford is unable to make it, he's the donor who will be funding all of this," Simpson added. "What would you like to order?"

They all placed orders and exchanged pleasantries until Becker looked at Cuddy and said, "I'm sure you're relieved to be between jobs right now. I understand you have a daughter, must have been tough being a single mom and working such a stressful job…"

The entire table shifted uncomfortably at the question. Cuddy looked stunned, picking up her glass of water and taking a sip to buy some time to decide how to answer the question. House stepped in, "Do you just lack simple research skills or are you this much of a gigantic moron overall?"

"Excuse me?" Becker asked.

Cuddy said, softly, leaning toward House, "It's OK. She doesn't know."

"It's not OK," he said, directing the discussion back toward the table. "It's pretty clear you guys want something from us, the least you could do is a little homework so you can avoid gigantic missteps like that one. Next she'll be asking me about my long jump."

"I'm sorry, I have no idea why my comment was so offensive, but…" Becker began before she was interrupted.

"Go home, get a computer, and search it. Or ask one of these guys after we leave. Then you'll _really_ feel like an ass," he said, sitting back in his seat. "What's this all about? Let's cut to the chase here so Cuddy and I know whether this is worth our time or not."

To his surprise Cuddy still wasn't casting him disapproving looks. She surveyed the table, waiting for someone to answer the question. "Fine," Harris said. "We would all like to hire the pair of you…as…diagnostic consultants. Our donor, Mr. Medford, approached Simpson to find House when his sister was dying a year ago. No one was able to save her. He feels that there is something House could have done had he been available. He is interested in donating a very large sum of money to assist you in starting this consulting group. You would be free of some of the constraints of hospital rules…"

"You mean we'd be much more liable…right?" Cuddy added.

"That is part of it…" Harris answered, frankly.

"It doesn't really work that way," Cuddy added, "you guys hire us, even as consultants, and you're still partially responsible as long as we're acting as your agents in your hospital."

"Do you have any idea how in demand Dr. House's diagnostic skills are in the marketplace?" Harris asked Cuddy.

"I'm acutely aware of what his skills are worth," she replied, sternly, "If you remember, I was the one person who was willing to hire and keep him for all of those years. He worked for me longer than he's ever worked for anyone else. I stuck my neck out for him on more than one occasion, even when…other people…thought he wasn't worth the risk. So, why not hire him directly?" she asked the table.

"Well, we thought…we could all use the services…" Simpson floundered.

"None of you want to take responsibility. You want House to bring in money for you, but you want to do it without of the risk to your wallets...or at least your names," Cuddy stated.

"You have to admit, he's a pretty serious risk," Becker added.

"But yet, you all want to use his talents to make money. I have bad news for all of you: you don't get House's brilliance without accepting the risks associated with him. Part of his brilliance _is_ the fact that he takes those risks…he's willing to think about things in ways other people can't even fathom."

House looked over at her with great interest, and some surprise. She was defending him adamantly while she lauded his skills, something that she had often done, but only occasionally done in front of him. She was unapologetic and unwavering in her defense.

She finally turned to him and said, "Actually, you go ahead. You are the one they are interested in, and I'm sure you can speak for yourself."

"You are doing fine," he said, nodding his approval. "Continue…I'll let you know if I disagree about how amazing I am."

"Actually we do want both of you," Becker added. "We need someone who can work with patients and families. Someone who can be more personable and diplomatic."

"Lisa, no one handles irate, difficult, or panicky patients like you do. You have a knack for calming people down, getting them to listen to reason...getting them to listen to House…you also understand the importance of rules and paperwork and the formalities associated with medicine," Simpson added.

"Also, you are someone with more of a business sense. You could serve as the Endocrinologist...a team member, work together," Becker added.

"I don't think so," Cuddy said as she started to stand up.

House put a hand on her arm, gently resting it there, his eyes requesting that she wait a moment longer before leaving. She saw his interest in continuing the discussion, and wasn't initially sure if it was because of some game he wanted to play, or legitimate interest in the offer, but she sat down so he could hear them out.

"So…I would answer to Cuddy?" he asked.

"You'd have to run all risky procedures past the administrator of whichever hospital you were at, and keep us informed of patient progress throughout each case. You'd be working 'for' whoever is contracting your services at the time. As Dr. Cuddy said, the hospital that hires you on is still responsible, to some extent, for your behavior," Harris answered.

"So, what's the advantage of being associated with the three of you, when Cuddy and I could go out on our own, start our own business, and have people come to us directly?"

"You would mostly be your own entity. We'd just have a standing contract for your services. We can provide you with the equipment, office space...contracts which would guarantee you a certain amount of income per year. You'd have offices at each of the hospitals, if you want them. When you aren't working for one of us, you could sell your services elsewhere."

"So you guys would pay us an hourly rate, or a set amount per case?" Cuddy questioned.

"A set rate," Simpson answered.

"If we were even to consider this, we'd get a base rate, plus hourly, because I'm sure you're going to bill for us hourly. What sort of percentage are we talking about here?" Cuddy asked.

"Ballpark...I'd say fifteen," Simpson responded.

"Fifteen isn't even enough to get us to look over the cases to see if we're interested," she answered.

"What are you looking for?" Simpson asked.

"Seventy percent of the hours you bill for us as specialists. We won't touch what you bill for rooming, supplies or other hospital services. We can negotiate the flat rate later on."

"Seventy? Are you insane?" Harris asked.

"No," Cuddy responded, "we're responsible for all of our own benefits. Vacation, health insurance, malpractice insurance, retirement…we'll have to come up with that all on our own."

"Fine," Harris conceded, "We'll consider that."

"Any donations specifically directed to us, are ours. And any donations received by the hospital due to our care, thirty percent goes into budgets for us to use at your hospitals."

"We'll have to discuss this with our boards and business offices. You know that," Becker replied.

"That's fine. I'm just letting you know up front what we expect, so we won't have to laugh off your first offer," Cuddy said, with a shrewd smile.

"Who picks the cases?" House asked.

"You could, although each hospital would reserve the right to select a certain number of cases per year as part of the contract."

"Can I speak to you privately for a moment," House said to Cuddy with an inordinately professional timbre.

"Umm, sure," she said, as she stood and followed him into the entry way. "What's wrong?" she asked him.

"Nothing," he said, leaning down so that he could speak quietly. "This…is fun!" he said, his facial expression serious in case anyone at the table was watching them.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't you think this is fun?"

She smiled widely before catching herself, and replacing the grin with a serious look to mimic his. "You brought me out here to tell me you're having fun?" she asked, completely amused at his cause for interruption.

"Well, I also figured it would probably freak them out a little…I'm sure they'd love to know what we're saying."

"Clever negotiating technique," she said with a nod.

They both turned slowly back toward the table, and watched all six eyes quickly divert to other locations.

"Also," House said, his voice low and secretive, "You should know that you are unbelievably hot when you are negotiating…and even hotter when you're talking about how wonderful I am."

She looked at him with an extremely stern face, putting on a further show for their audience. "You…are also unbelievably sexy when you're negotiating. If we don't decide to do anything with them, we'll have to find some other use for these skills."

His face remained stoic, but his eyes smiled at her, flashing his approval.

"Not to break up this moment, but one request," she said, "Let's not make any decisions tonight. We want to make them sit on it for a few days…sound acceptable?"

"Definitely," he answered, before they both made their way back to the table.

"I'd need more of a team than just Cuddy," House added while he sat down. "No offense," he said, looking over at her.

"None taken," she responded.

"You want Wilson, don't you?" Simpson asked.

"I want to be able to call him in when I need him," House answered. "If I need an Oncologist…he's there. And Kate Vega from Penn, once she's back from medical leave, handles all psych consults. Both of them I need available on a case by case basis. And sometimes I might need them for other things that may not seem to make sense to you, but understanding people's hidden talents and areas of expertise is just one of my many skills."

"OK…we can do that," Simpson said, and Becker agreed.

"And I need Robert Chase and Celia Norman full time."

"You want Chase...full time?" Simpson asked, displeased with the request.

"Yup. Full time. He worked for me the longest, so I know he'll put up with me, and I know what I get with him. I'll need my own surgeon anyway. So…Chase."

"He won't agree to go back with you full time," Simpson insisted.

House picked up his cell phone and placed a call. "House?" Chase answered the phone.

House said calmly, "If it's a go…you in?"

"I'm in," Chase said, matter-of-factly.

House hung up and looked back at Simpson. Simpson dialed Chase on his own cell phone. "Chase," he answered his phone again.

"This is Dean Simpson. You don't even know what House is talking about!" Simpson said to Chase.

"If House is putting together a team, I'm there. What else would he be talking about?" Chase said, a tinny version of his voice projecting from the speaker on the cell phone.

Simpson hung up, "I will never understand certain people's blind allegiance to you."

"Dr. Norman, which hospital is she from?" Harris asked.

"She's from Penn, she's not a doctor, but I need her," House answered.

"She a technician or nurse?" Becker probed.

"She's the valet supervisor. I _need_ her. She's part of my process…" House said, sincerely.

Cuddy was both confused and entertained by his insistence in taking on Celia, but offered no argument to the contrary.

"And Dr. Cuddy, any staff you'll need?" Harris asked.

"We can work that out after we have some time to think about it," Cuddy said, nudging House's knee with her own, hoping he'd understand her request to back away from the negotiations for a while. Cuddy continued, "Now, you have your lawyers draw up something for us, so we know what you are _really_ offering, complete with the staffing needs House laid out for you. Send it over to us, and we'll consider it…" She turned to House, "Are we agreed?"

He nodded, "We're agreed!"

"_If_ we are interested in your offer, we'll have our lawyers look at it for us. So we want two weeks to respond to any offer you make. I think that seems fair," Cuddy told the people around table.

After they finished their meal, they were saying their goodbyes and Cuddy said, "Oh, Dr. House and I will need the next week, or maybe two, to meet with lawyers, and research our options. It would really help us if he could work with me and could avoid going into the research department at the hospital until we've reached an agreement. Do you think you could work that out with Dr. Altland?" she asked Becker.

"Shouldn't be a problem," Becker said with a rigid smile.

They got in the car and House was kissing her immediately, with a sense of solidarity and victory. "You are so unbelievable. God, Cuddy!" He said as he sat back. "All of those years, I had no appreciation for your directorial scorn…well…perhaps because it was directed, somewhat hatefully at times, toward me."

She rolled her eyes, "Hatefully?"

"But today…today, being on your side…was a very powerful feeling. I'm telling you Cuddy, we may be unstoppable!"

She giggled, her tone happy and light, "We really were…amazing!" she agreed.

"On top of that...you got me a week off of work…" he said, and then whispered out the side of his mouth, "or maybe two…"

"Yea. I was thinking we could take an extra day for our trip this weekend, and then we can see what we have to do to get us set up. Maybe figure out if we really do want to start our own business, or if we want to work for someone else because it isn't worth the hassle."

"Or we could take the next week and do absolutely nothing important…" he countered.

"How about we take a…five day weekend…"

"OK…I guess I could live with that…" he smiled as he leaned over toward her and put a hand on her thigh. "So…really, what do you think about all of this?"

"I think we could probably make enough money in three to five years to retire very well and very early. We could take nice long vacations…"

"I like long vacations…"

"And think we'll probably have some huge fights. Working together, living together…"

"I didn't mind working with you…I don't want to work _for_ you. I'd actually _rather_ work with you, because most people are much more annoying than you are."

"Wow…thanks," she said, sarcastically.

"I think we should do it. We can work a week or two a month, and have non-stop sex the other week or two…or…maybe do some traveling…look for the place we want to sneak off to and write it off as a business expense."

She smiled, "That…sounds really great. I just don't want to lose what we have."

"Separate desks, space for alone time when we're frustrated," he said calmly, "everything we've been doing works…talk even if we're pissed…well…talk after we've had time to cool off...and we stay honest. And we don't let work take over."

"If we find that it isn't working out…we start working on things separately," she added.

"Yea, that's fine."

"So…Celia…part of the team, what's your plan with that?" she asked.

"Well, I figured you'd want an assistant. Someone to do office things…that way you can stick to doctoring."

"Why would Celia want to do that kind of stuff?"

"She and her husband owned their own business for thirty years. She did the office work. Plus…I think she'll actually survive you where all other PA's have failed. She's definitely not afraid of you!" he said.

Cuddy smiled and nodded, "Let's go home and pack, if we have extra time for our road trip, why waste it!"


	64. Chapter 64

**A/N**-_Hey there, thank you to everyone who's reading, and all of those who let me know what you think: Housebound, partypantscuddy, TheHouseWitch, RedTulipAna, JLCH, lenasti16, Anonnee, IHeartHouseCuddy, LapizSilkwood, CaptainK8, kraw, iridescentZEN, Bakerstreet Blues, harpomarx, ClareBear14, huddyholic, KiwiClare, Suzieqlondon, Josam, Abby, dlmarchl, Jane Q. Doe, HuddyGirl, Alex and Truth  
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**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD.  
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><p>House sat on the patio at home staring at his cell phone, trying to decide if he was ready to make the call he was about to make.<p>

"Hello?" queried the voice on the other end of the line.

"Hey Mom," he said into his phone.

"Greg?" his mother's voice greeted from the other end.

"Yea. How've you been?"

"Fine, I'm…happy to hear from you. Is everything OK?"

"Yea. I'm good"

"Good? Did you say you are 'good'?"

"Yea," he responded, nodding and sitting forward his chair. "Anything…new?"

"Not really. Is something wrong, Greg?"

"No," he laughed. "Nothing's wrong. I think…I'm going to go back to working as a doctor."

"I am very pleased to hear that. You are wasting your talents. Going back to Princeton?"

"I don't know yet, we're working on that."

"We're? Who's the 'we'?"

"I'm gonna get married," he cautiously answered.

"OK…" she responded, sounding concerned, "Again?"

"You know?" he asked with surprise.

"Of course. What are you involved in, is this a good idea?"

"It's…real. I mean…I want to because…you know." His words stumbled in his head as he tried to figure out how to say what he wanted to say, "Because of all of the reasons you are supposed to want to get married."

"You…are in love?"

"It's not unfathomable."

She laughed softly, "I know that. I'm excited and surprised. Relieved, maybe. I think a mother always wants to see her son happy. Are you…happy?"

"I think so"

"OK…"

"No, I am. Just…waiting. For whatever happens next…"

"Prepared for the worst! You were always like that."

"Always expecting it…never prepared for it," he answered, with the certainty of a person who learned a lesson too well, far too many times.

"Who is she? Where did you meet her?"

"Where'd I meet her? School."

"School? Did you go to a reunion or did someone find you on the computer?"

"I originally met her at school…and…then I worked for her. It's Cuddy…" he said, wincing and waiting for her response.

"Cuddy? As in your old boss?" she said, obviously taken off guard by his statement.

"Yea"

"The woman that you…"

"Yea. All that," he quickly interrupted to avoid hearing any part of the tale he remembered with perfect clarity, "You know enough to know why it's complicated."

"Does this mean I'm going to have a grandchild?" Blythe asked with a hopeful tone.

"No."

"I thought she had a little girl…"

"She died"

"Oh god, Greg," she gasped and he could hear the depth of her empathy. "That was always one of my worst fears. Outliving you."

"Yea."

"Are you two…really ready to do this? I'm happy for you," she quickly corrected. "Don't take this the wrong way. I sort of thought there was something between the two of you a very long time ago, but I want to make sure this is a good decision."

"It is. Things are…different."

"Will I be invited to the wedding?"

"I think we might just do a reception kind of thing, I don't know. I'll invite you to the…thing that we do…whatever we do, whenever we do it."

"She's been in your life for a long time…and I don't even really know her, do I?"

"Sorry, Mom. I'm very…"

"I know how you are," she chuckled. "She seems intelligent, successful…quite attractive. I'm glad you aren't settling for less."

"Yea," he said, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Look, I have to go, we're going away for the weekend. I just wanted to let you know."

"Can I see you soon?"

"Yea, soon"

* * *

><p>After his phone call, House went back inside to find Cuddy, who was getting her things ready.<p>

"Where's Kate?" Cuddy asked as she zipped around the bedroom gathering some clothes for her suitcase.

"Who knows with that girl? You know, I haven't traveled as much in the past decade, as I have in the last few months," he responded.

"Too much?"

"No."

"Should we wait to say goodbye to Kate, so she knows we're leaving."

"Nah, we'll call her later"

They got in the car once they were packed and he looked at her and said, "So when did you get a key to Wilson's?"

"What?" she asked, confused.

"When did you get a key to Wilson's beach place? That _is_ where we're going…right?"

"You guessed?" she said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

"After straining my brain…desperately in search of the answer!" he said, exaggeratedly, "yes. It wasn't that hard. Rachel…the clothes…us…seems a fitting location, doesn't it?"

"Yea," she answered, solemnly. "I don't want this to be all sad though," she added after a few minutes. "This is about closure, and about us, celebrating the chance to start over…visiting the place where we got our new beginning. Like a…pre-wedding weekend getaway. After all of that crap with my Mom, it'll be nice to have it be just us."

"You didn't invite Arlene?" he said, as if the admission was scandalous. "I don't know if I can go very long without her unconditional love and support!"

"There's always the telephone," Cuddy said with mock sympathy.

"So, back to my earlier question. How did you get the key to Wilson's? Were you planning this for a while?"

"He let me keep one. I called to ask them of course, but they said we could use it any time."

"You _mean_ that you called to make sure they wouldn't show up unannounced!" he said, accusingly.

"Maybe!" she nodded. "That was…unbelievably frustrating last time, if you remember."

"Oh, I remember. I'm not sure how I could forget."

The drive down was vaguely familiar for them both. House remembered many of the landmarks that he noted on the way there during the first trip they made. There were so many things his mind considered during that original drive. He noted Cuddy's now relaxed posture, as she tapped at the steering wheel with her fingers to the music that filled the car. Her eyes were no longer vacant and tired, and she had that…sense about her again.

There was something about Cuddy that was so like perpetual motion, even in stillness: a vibration that exuded from her due to the sheer frequency of her existence. Watching her, he could almost see and definitely sense the innumerable electrons zooming around the innumerable nuclei, in every fiber of her being.

When she found him again, she wasn't that person. She was a mere shell of a human every bit as vacant and vapid as a person left for years on life support, with no hope of recovery. There were images of her throughout the years in his mind, from their initial meetings, when her face was still round with youth, and her entire being so much less jaded and so very enthusiastic. There was the image of her when he first saw her at the hospital when he was admitted with his infarction: so professional, but even through his pain, he knew her. So many flashes of her throughout the years, pleading with him, yelling at him, standing toe-to-toe, completely unafraid when so many people scurried away. Then the memories of her lying in a hospital bed, or situated next to him while he was in one, or standing over Rachel in her bassinet, so full of hope.

A year ago, had someone approached him with the concept of reconciliation with Cuddy, he would have called them a fool. He would have mentioned that there was too much hurt, too much damage, far too much history, for both to agree to forgive the outrageous list of mutual offenses. Strangely, now he knew it _was_ their history that made them so strong. They were each present at moments of complete weakness, and absolute brilliance, and witnessed survivals through catastrophe and rebound in the aftermath of heartbreak.

"You're quiet," she said, after reaching one finger out to mute the stereo. "You OK, need to get out and stretch?"

"Not yet," he absently answered.

He could so easily sense her tension. He had always been able to do that. Leaning over, resting his elbow on her armrest, he laid his arm alongside the inner stretch of her thigh, and wrapped his fingers around her knee, holding her possessively, reassuring her. He didn't feel like talking about the thoughts in his head at that moment. It wasn't that he was feeling sad, or angry, or that there was any reason to hide the thoughts, but he wanted to hold them privately for a while.

She looked down at his hand, surprised by the comfortable familiarity with which he touched her. When he first leaned over she was prepared to smack his hand away, to thwart some sort of advance. His touch was deeply intimate, although not lewd in any way. She wasn't sure when he'd become so comfortable with such affection, or when she had become so welcoming of it, but she knew every moment of it felt amazing. She was completely certain that, until recently, she wouldn't have welcomed such close contact from anyone. She accepted the touch as proof that everything in their world was still OK. That, despite the fact that he was deeply lost in his thoughts, it wasn't an indicator of impending crisis.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when she lifted his hand from her knee, and he thought she was uncomfortable with the contact. She brought his hand to her face, kissed his palm, and then returned it to her knee, keeping her hand over his for a few minutes so he was assured that she didn't want him to remove it.

* * *

><p>When they finally arrived, they both stared up at the place, much as they did the first time they went there. They got out slowly, already hearing the sounds of the breeze and waves, and enjoying the smells of the ocean.<p>

"It's really good to be back!" Cuddy announced from the patio facing the ocean after they got settled.

It was strange for both of them to be there again, particularly on the patio. The hammock they swung on together, the place where they had so many of their early conversations and established what turned out to be very effective changes in their relationship. Much of it started right there. She remembered wondering if they'd survive as a couple once they left that place, and the feeling that problems would be on the horizon for them in the real world.

She had both hands resting on the railing as she leaned forward, casually watching the ocean. He walked up next to her, extending one arm around her and resting his hand on the railing between her body and hand.

"You are really, really sure you want to get married, right?" he asked.

"Yes…you keep asking, so does that mean you are hesitant or reserved? No lies, House," she said, sternly.

"I have no hesitations or reservations, I'm just being sure. Since…I told my Mom about us."

"What? When?"

"Before we left today. I think she likes you."

"She doesn't know me."

"She knows enough. She said you were successful, and intelligent, and really hot…"

"Your mother said I'm hot?"

"I had to get it from somewhere!" he teased. "She may have used slightly different words. She also said intelligent and successful," he reminded her.

"She's very kind."

"And, she thinks I'm happy"

"You really told her?"

"Yes."

"Wow…you are _really_ serious about this."

"I am," he casually answered.

"I can't believe you told your mother," she said, leaning against him so they could feel each other's presence.

They enjoyed a drink on the patio, discussing their job opportunities with a great deal of excitement, when she tilted her head thoughtfully and said, "Are you really tired?"

"No, why?"

"I'm ready to say my goodbye to Rach's things. I need to do this…I need to move forward. I'm just going to be sitting here, thinking that I need to do it…until I actually do it. So, do you mind if we do this tonight?"

"No, I don't mind. Do you want me to stay here, or do something, or come with you…"

"Do you want to come with me?"

He shook his head, "That's your call, Cuddy. You need to be the one to make that decision…and I'll go with your decision…no matter what it is."

"You have been with me through all of this. I want you to be there, but I don't want you to feel forced."

"I'm not forced," he offered a brief half smile, but she could see the sadness in his eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

"Go on downstairs. I'll be down in a minute."

He stood up from his seat, glanced his lips across her cheek and began working his way down the steps. A few minutes later, Cuddy appeared in the doorway, the light from inside setting off her silhouette. It was late, closer to dawn than dusk, and the air was warm and heavy with humidity and the breeze was light, considering their spot next to the ocean. Cuddy walked over to the fire pit and started throwing in kindling and tenting larger, thicker pieces of wood over the top from the piles Wilson and Ann had set aside for campfires.

"My dad used to take us camping, when Mom would go visit her brother," Cuddy said as she looked through a cabinet just inside the door for a lighter. "One of my favorite parts was building the fire."

"Really?" he asked, surprised, not at her enjoyment at creating a fire, but at the fact that it was yet another piece of information he didn't know even after all of those years. "I didn't know you liked camping."

"Well…less so now," she smiled, "but when I was younger, I loved it. Julia and me, stuck in one of those little low lying tents, Dad in one right next to us. Not the huge roomed ones they have now. Little army style tents. Dad and I still embarked on our adventures, right up until he died. He was so much more adventurous than Mom…who was…is…definitely happier in a five-star hotel. That was our thing. Julia and Mom had their thing…"

"You miss him?"

Cuddy sighed, standing upright and brushing her hands off against each other before propping them on her hips. "Of course. Not as much as I did, which sounds bad, I guess. I don't feel like I belong with my family anymore. I think I haven't since he died. After Rachel died…I felt it even less."

"Would you have talked to him…about Rachel?"

"Probably not," she said, as if admitting it begrudgingly. "We didn't talk much. We had…understanding. We didn't discuss our problems."

"You and I," House said before thinking at all, "were so… defined by what we lost. What we lost just fed our shortcomings and miscommunication, and then that fed further loss…then somehow in the weirdest fucking twist of fate, what we lost, became _so_ devastating that we found...everything." He blinked silently for a few seconds, the truth and weight of his words greater than anything he expected from himself.

"Emotionally…mentally… hitting bottom?" she asked.

"I guess. I don't know."

"People who have nothing left to lose…are the most dangerous…and the most receptive to change and new beginnings."

"Yea," he nodded.

She inhaled slowly, turning her head back to the door. He nodded his agreement when she looked back at him, knowing that she was ready. She lit the fire, which caught easily, and then threw more wood on, moving pieces to be sure it was hot enough and would stay lit. She poked at the fire a few moments, and then went inside to gather the items she needed. House walked over to her when she began her approach, "You sure you are ready to do this?"

"Yea, I am," she responded.

"You sure this is _how_ you want to do this?"

"I can't explain it, the thought of her clothes, the last ones she wore, sitting in a dumpster somewhere…ending up in a landfill…I wish I knew why that bothered me so much. I know, it doesn't make sense."

"It…makes perfect sense," he said, as if the truth of her concerns was evident. "All I want to know is, if you are ready to do this for _you_. Not for me, or anyone else. And if this is the way _you_ want to do it."

"It is. I can't leave this little bit of her existence…that last little scrap of her physical being…that I still have…to rot with the garbage."

He nodded deeply, holding her gaze. Their non-verbal communication had always been powerful, and, in the past, much truer than their words, but at that moment, when there were no words, they spoke most eloquently. She held the garments close to her chest in a soft hug one final time while he reached over and touched the end of a sleeve between his thumb and forefinger for just a moment.

She stepped forward, crouched down next to fire, and placed the garments down between the larger logs, into the hottest part of the fire at the center. She used a stick to poke them further in, and then gathered many smaller pieces of wood to add, that she knew would burn hot and fast, hoping to eliminate all traces of the cloth. He pulled a chair over next to the fire and watched as the garments were consumed. Cuddy sat in front of him on the ground, her back and side just grazing against the lower part of his leg, just enough to feel his silent presence. A few tears rolled down her face…but she was no longer wracked with sorrow.

The symbolism was powerfully freeing for her, and images of rodents nesting in the evidence of her daughter's departure were finally banished. The items burned quickly, consumed much more rapidly than she had predicted, and she felt the almost physical release of weight from her chest while she breathed deeply.

She ran inside when the flames started dying down, and got drinks for both of them, which they nursed as they watched the final few glowing embers settle to the bottom of the pit. They were silent for a very long time, comfortably so, and when she finally broke the silence she said, "Thanks. Really. I really...don't think I would have been OK without you."

"You don't know that," he said, dismissing her compliment.

When he met her gaze, he saw the sincerity there and answered, after some hesitation, "I…wouldn't be here without you either. I don't know where either of us would be…but…"

She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she allowed him to drop the sentence, not pushing him, and refusing to fill in the gap on her own. She stood, brushed her hand on his shoulder, and shoveled the still hot and smoky ashes into a bucket. She removed her shoes, rolled up her pant legs and walked the bucket down the water, dumping the contents into the ocean.

She walked back toward him from the surf, the edges of her pants soaked and dripping with ocean water as she returned. She put the bucket back in its place, approached him, and took his hand to coax him inside. He stood gingerly, more out of thought than from any physical pain, and said, his voice faint but firm, "I don't know where either of us would be, but, on our worst day together it's always worlds better than my life was before."

He squeezed her hand and turned toward the door to go back inside. They went upstairs, finally ending up in the hammock on the porch, nestled in, as the ocean air and exhaustion drew them into sleep.


	65. Chapter 65

**A/N**_-Hey all! Fireworks of thanks everyone, so excited to have reached 1000 reviews! I'd say I couldn't have done it with you, but that's really horribly obvious, isn't it? :-) Really, thank you for still reading, and extra thanks to all of the people who have reviewed since I started this back in February._

_Thanks to all of those who read, and all who have reviewed since the last installment: JLCH, CaptainK8, iridescentZEN, partypantscuddy, TheHouseWitch, IHeartHouseCuddy, byte size, Zaydasky, Bakerstreet Blues, lenasti16, LapizSilkwood, ClareBear14, housebound, misshousism, Josam, dmarchl, Little Greg, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex, Iane Casey and LoveMyHouse._

**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD_

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><p>Cuddy woke to the sun gleaming in her eyes with almost intolerable brightness, sweaty and uncomfortable in the rapidly escalating heat of the day. She stretched, already anticipating a shower, and much cleaner, cooler clothes. She felt something distinctly uncomfortable, on her chest and found growing circles of water. "You are such an immature jackass," she said, trying to mask a chuckle when he walked out onto the patio with coffee.<p>

She pulled what still remained of the two ice cubes that were tucked into the pockets of her shirt, and threw them at him. "You looked hot," he said, as he handed her a cup. He was already showered and dressed and appeared alert enough to have already had a few cups of coffee.

"How did you get out of the hammock without waking me?" she asked.

"You were busy swallowing half the state with that snore. Nothing would have woken you."

She shook her head and sipped the coffee, trying to wake fully. "I need to get a shower."

"I didn't want to say anything, but…it's about time."

"Is there anything you want to do today?" she asked, ignoring his joke.

"Yes. Actually, we're on a pretty tight schedule."

"We're on a schedule…for our weekend away?"

"Oh yea. So go, shower and get dressed. We need to get moving."

"What am I dressing for?"

"Umm…" he looked off in the distance, tapping his lips thoughtfully, "Errands, but...try not to slob it up."

She rolled her eyes, "I'll do my best to meet your impossibly high standards," she sneered, playfully.

Cuddy emerged later, dressed as the quintessential beach vacationer, in light, casual clothes with a look of almost complete relaxation on her face. She found a note on the countertop with the word, "Downstairs," scribbled quickly across the paper.

When she walked out the lower level door, he was leaning against one of the walls, talking on the phone, and as soon as his eyes met her face he grinned.

She backed up, only the slightest bit, momentarily, before returning his grin. "Kate," he mouthed, tilting his head toward the ear held against the phone. "Well, my pathetic little admirer," he said into the phone, "Cuddy awaits. Time to go."

He listened momentarily to Kate, his eyes still glued to Cuddy, with a smile playing on his face. His attention probably would have made her uncomfortable had she not grown accustomed to it. He hung up the phone without looking at it and said, "You slept in _really _late."

"That's what happens when I go to bed right before the sun comes up."

"It's lunch time…" he said, nodding toward the car and jingling the keys.

He got in the driver's seat before she had the opportunity to offer to drive. She was talking, somewhat animatedly, about their upcoming decision to either go out on their own entirely, or work in conjunction with the three hospitals, when she looked around with confusion, "Wait, where are we going?"

She peered at the street signs zipping by them, and noticed that they were headed inland to a destination that was not at all familiar. He smiled as he faced forward, carefully watching the road, she suspected, looking for the signs that would lead them in the right direction.

"You found somewhere new to eat, didn't you," she speculated.

"Tony's House of Deep Fried Snack Cakes…I knew you'd love it the second I heard about it! I'm getting the batter-dipped, re-deep-fried donut…"

"Yes, that sounds…coronary inducing…" she answered.

"Well, every guest that has any sort of 'cardiac event' while they are eating, gets their picture hung on a wall in the back and a free tee shirt. Fingers crossed!" he said, his gesture mimicking his words.

They pulled up to a very large brick building, obviously new construction, built in colonial style. "Administration Building?" she asked. "Is this some sort of joke…you want me to get a picture taken next to a particular sign or something? Or…we're stopping at a cafeteria that has a two-fer deal today? What's the story, House?" she said, her face amused but uncertain.

He held up his phone and snapped a picture. "Later on, I want to have _this_ picture to remember how mean you are to me," he teased. "Come on!"

They went in through the front door and he followed signs to the place he wanted to go. "You're joking?" she said when she realized where they were.

"No," he answered calmly.

"We're getting married, right now? I look like shit!" she said as she started to look through her purse frantically, "Let me find a bathroom, I'd like to look half decent…this..." she said, circling her face with a pointed finger, "is not the image I want you to have of how I looked when we got married…give me fifteen minutes!"

She started to walk away until he grabbed her arm. "I bring you here to get married, and your only reaction is 'let me fix my makeup'?"

"Come on, I'd really like to look a little better…it won't kill you to wait a few minutes."

He looked at her, with surprise, and she could see he was calculating something in his head. "First of all, you look amazing. You always look amazing, even when you think you don't…sometimes _especially_ when you think you don't. Second, we don't have a marriage license. Technically, you come here and get a marriage _license_, which is good for a couple of months, so that _later _you can get married."

"Oh," she said, tossing the few items that were held tightly between her fingers back into her purse, "I misunderstood." She pulled her purse back up onto her shoulder and said, "I'm ready then."

He stood there, shaking his head and blinking and clearly thinking of things he was not verbalizing. "I don't have a birth certificate or anything like that with me…I have my driver's license, what all do I need?" she asked.

She looked back at him when he didn't answer and waited expectantly.

"So you didn't realize you needed a license to get married?" he asked, skeptically.

"Oh I did…I just figured you forged it…or Kate did…" she said casually.

"And you'd be OK with that?"

"Well, it's unethical, but since I would want to get one anyway, it's hardly against my will."

He still looked dumbfounded, "Fine," she admitted, speaking quickly, "I forgot about needing one, I was taken by surprise and then I tried to demonstrate that I'm…going with the flow."

"Yea…" he still hesitated.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't believe you'd walk in there at a moment's notice to marry me and your only concern would be how you looked so that my…mental image of you would be appropriate…"

"I know, I know, you think I'm vain! That can't possible surprise you!"

"It's not that," he said, chuckling, as people were watching them argue right outside the door of the county clerk's office. He pulled her to the side, "I guess I keep imagining that you're going to change your mind…that you won't follow through with it."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you…" he thought for a few moments, chin nearly tucked to his chest, face bunched up with contemplation. "Because…I…" he looked up at her, "because I don't get the things that I want. I find what I want, and then something terrible happens and I can't have it."

"Of course it does, that…sadly…seems to hold true for you," she said, sympathetically, and without sarcasm. "And it is very possible that we'll walk in there, do the paperwork, and when they try to hand us the license, a meteor will crash from the sky and smash us into the ground, or some…well, some rare sickness or unknown food allergy will leave one of us dead and one of us heartbroken."

"Not making me feel better, Cuddy!"

She smiled before reaching up to place a hand against his chest, "That…is why I have no hesitation. This is what I want…it's what you want…we might as well try to get what we want…right now…when we can still get it. Hopefully we make it to the honeymoon without some unforeseen cataclysm."

He shrugged, knowing he couldn't deny the logic, romance, and truth behind her words. "You…are right," he said, before squinting, and pointing a finger, "but don't expect to hear those words often…I don't want to unrealistically build your expectations," he countered.

She smirked before she answered, "We'll probably be destroyed before we get to the 'unmet expectations' stage of our relationship."

They started to walk into the office when she stopped him, "So…wait," she added, "practically speaking…I don't have my birth certificate, do you need one in this state?"

"I don't know, I had Kate grab yours from your place when she was there, just in case."

"That little sneak…"

"It was either that or have her 'make' one…but…I figured I'd actually follow the rules with the paperwork so that no one can come back later and say it isn't legit…"

"So, when are we getting married?" she asked.

"This license is good for a couple of months …but we'll have it if we need it."

"That is…so romantic…"

"No. Not romantic…practical. I don't like paperwork slowing me down," he said defensively. "You should know that."

She smirked smugly, folded her arms across her chest, and waited.

"Fine…a tiny bit romantic. But…just a tiny little bit," he clarified.

She raised an eyebrow and offered a scandalously flirtatious look. "You want to have sex with me right now…don't you?" he asked, arrogantly.

"Definitely," she smiled.

"Let's stay focused horn-dog," he smiled, and pulled her into the clerk's office.

A young, chipper assistant clerk took them to a cubicle with a table and chairs to fill out the necessary paperwork. It was obvious she saw herself as a bit of a cupid for her role in facilitating marriages, and that she definitely enjoyed her job.

He shifted around nervously in his seat while Cuddy filled out her portion of the paperwork, then placed the pen on top of the paper, and slid them both across the table to him. "Can't you just do the whole thing?" he asked with a whine.

"House…" she said, "I have no idea where your parents were born…or where your mom lives now…and…I certainly don't know the date of your divorce."

"Oh," he said, quickly grabbing the paper. He filled in the information that was required after calling his mother to confirm some of the details he wasn't certain of, and handed the paperwork over to the assistant clerk, who was watching Cuddy with some concern. "You OK ma'am?" the clerk asked.

"Fine, thank you," Cuddy said, stiffly, nodding at the girl at the other end of the table. She took their ID's, eyes darting back and forth between the pair, and pushed their birth certificates back to them. She looked disappointed that the couple was disrupting her faerie tale happy environment. "Let me get some copies."

"Cuddy?" he whispered.

"Cuddy!" he repeated, when she didn't answer. "Don't test me, you _know_ I'll get loud."

"What?" she barked at whisper volume.

"Why do you no longer look happy?" he said, just above a whisper.

"I'm happy!"

"Right…those are happy wrinkles in your forehead. What's wrong? Is this about the stupid green-card wedding again…we were over that…"

"It isn't about that, I'm fine!"

"Then why so tense?"

"I just …there's _a lot _that I don't know about you!"

"You think where my dad was born has some bearing on this? I didn't know everything on the form about me."

"I just…feel like there's so much that I should know."

"And…with any luck, you'll have a lot of time to learn that stuff. It's just…demographics…that doesn't matter. No one reads me like you do…no one else knows my tricks the way you do…and I have never, in my life, been this honest about my feelings with _anyone_…except you. Most people don't even think I have feelings," he whispered.

She looked at him again and nodded.

He continued, "So what's more important? Being the one person who knows how I feel about many _very_ personal things… or being the person who knows where my fake father was born?"

"I'm sorry, you are definitely right," she said, nodding her head. "But…I would still like to know a lot of the things that I don't know…"

"Then I guess we'll have something to talk about the next 20 years or so…or until the meteor hits…whichever comes first."

The assistant clerk returned with their paperwork. "It'll be ready to pick up by four, OK folks?"

"Today?" Cuddy asked.

"No waiting period in North Carolina ma'am"

"Thanks," Cuddy responded.

"How about this…" House offered, "Let's go get lunch, and waste time until the license is ready, you can ask me whatever you want…usually we do this and we discuss our deep, dark secrets…today…all the little details your heart desires."

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><p>They went to a restaurant nearby and ordered food. As soon as the waitress walked away, Cuddy delicately placed her napkin in her lap, folded her hands loosely in front of her on the table, and said, "How old were you when you lost your virginity?"<p>

He laughed, audibly, a rare occurrence. "What happened to wanting to know where I was born?"

"Read the license application," she said, shrugging.

He eyed her suspiciously, his mind clearly racing. "Um…"

"You don't want to answer that question because…?"

"Seventeen"

"Really?" she said, her eyes flaring.

"Yes"

"Someone as completely obsessed with sex as you waited that long?"

"Yes. I'm guessing waiting that long is _why _I'm such a big fan. You?"

"Sixteen"

"Slut," he teased.

"Oh nice!" she said with surprise. "Next question!"

"When you were a girl, did you want a pony?"

Cuddy laughed loudly before she answered by nodding, half covering her mouth with the wrist of a bent hand as she giggled. When she finished laughing she said, "Favorite toy, as a small kid?"

"I loved my toy guns…and my chemistry set… Ummm…" He paused contemplatively, "Your… first real crush?"

"So easy, my friend Becky's older brother…I consistently made an ass out of myself around him. I was probably…twelve…trying to look so sophisticated. He was a senior in high school, so he had zero interest in his little sister's nerdy friend."

"Oh…I'll bet a few years later he was kicking himself…"

"He saw me the summer before I left for college, I think he had a few regrets. What about you…your first crush?"

"Miss Mueller…teacher, second grade. She was so beautiful, and I was convinced that she would wait for me…sadly she married one of dad's subordinates. I was completely crushed."

She reached across the table and placed her hand over his. After all of their time together this display of affection, sitting at a table in a public place still felt odd, but pleasantly so. "That is adorable…sad little seven year-old House," she said.

"Dedicated my life to disappointment a long time ago," he joked.

She watched him for a moment, lost in feelings of affection. "OK," she said, interrupting her own thoughts, "It's your question…"

"Want to do it Sunday?" he asked.

She laughed, flirtatiously, "I would love to do it Sunday. And Saturday. And as soon as we can get out of here and find a suitable location…and…"

"That…all sounds fantastic… but, I meant...it…the wedding," he interrupted.

"Sunday?"

"Yea…if I can find someone to actually do the ceremony…small…private…"

"OK," she nodded.

"Perfect…" he said genuinely, "I'll handle it."

"What about our mothers…Wilson…Kate…"

"We can have a follow-up thing… a fake for-people wedding or just a party…where we tell Arlene to shut up and take her list of appropriate presiders and locations and shove 'em. This wedding…could be just for us."

"For us?" she said with a loving smirk, "I like it!"


	66. Chapter 66

**A/N**_-Hey everyone. Next update will be Monday. Thank you everyone for reading. To all of the reviewers, lenasti16, JLCH, IHeartHouseCuddy, CaptainK8, dmarchl, Bakerstreet Blues, RedTulipAna, LapizSilkwood, TheHouseWitch, key, partypantscuddy, housebound, ClareBear14, Abby, Alex, Utopia1074, grouchysnarky, HuddyGirl, Mon Fogel, bonneiyy77 and LoveMyHouse, thanks for the thoughts and so many words of support! Mon Fogel-Thanks for the edit._

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter contains adult content marked (between the "*")_

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><p>They picked up their marriage license when it was ready, and House drove them back to the beach place. "I'll need to get a dress, and figure out where we are going to have the ceremony, and then figure out who can officiate, and then…rings…oh my god," Cuddy said in a burst of energy and worry after a period of silence.<p>

"Shh…" he said, gesturing with his hand that she should calm her thoughts, "just relax, we have all day tomorrow to figure out these silly little details."

"Tomorrow, that's…not much time…"

"It's plenty of time."

"You're right…we can just do the makeshift ring thing for now…get something more official later on…"

The tiniest corner of his mouth smirked upward for a fraction of a millisecond, and she said, "How much of this is already planned?"

"What are you talking about?" he scoffed, unconvincingly.

"Did you plan _all_ of this already?" she asked, as they pulled up to a red light, and he brought the car to a halt. "You did, didn't you? Do you already have someone in mind to perform the ceremony?" she continued to question, eyes tightly squinting.

He turned away from the road, looked at her, and just as she opened her mouth to demand answers to her questions, she found his lips on hers, sweetly persisting, until she relented to the kiss. His hand was alongside her face, pulling her closer, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. She sighed softly and tried to move closer to the source of her pleasure, only to find herself ensnared by her seatbelt. They hopped back from one another when a horn blared behind them, signaling that the light had changed. She heard him nearly whimper a complaint and then he continued to drive.

"You still want me…that much?" she asked.

"Yup"

"One day, I'll be really old…you do know that right? I mean, if we miss the meteor, and survive pestilence...my ass will get all droopy and Patty and Selma will probably quit smokin'."

"Patty and Selma aren't quitters, Cuddy. Don't say that. I believe in you girls, don't listen to her," he said, leaning over toward her chest.

She chuckled, shaking her head, "You know, if you told me when I finished med school that I'd be finally be getting married again at this age, and you detailed this discussion…or face it, half of our discussions today, I'd never believe you!"

"But you're having fun…aren't you?"

She conceded with a gradually widening grin, "Yea…I am…"

"Good, then quit your bitching and stop picking on the girls!" he teased.

"What are you going to wear?" she asked.

"Umm, exactly what I always imagined since I was a little boy, leather chaps and a bowtie. Only the best for my lady."

She giggled momentarily, began to speak, and then had to stop to giggle again. "That…is one hell of an amazing mental picture…" she managed, her shoulders soon shaking with laughter that she couldn't seem to squelch.

"OK now, it wasn't _that_ funny," he said, chuckling at the fact that she couldn't stop giggling.

"Your…ass," she choked out, "hanging out there…"

After her laughter died down, he asked, "Do you want to get a new dress or something?"

"I think so…"

"That works, I have some stuff to do tomorrow while you shop."

"So…what about a bachelor party? Will you feel slighted if you don't have one?"

"Oh god, yea…definitely," he said, with embellished enthusiasm.

"I'm serious."

"I can go out before our fake-for-people-wedding-party-thing that we'll have to make our mothers happy."

"Really?" she asked, disappointment showing.

"Which part of that statement don't you like?"

"It's fine," she answered half-heartedly.

"Sounds like you're lying!"

"Well, you…licking things off of scantily clad…or worse off…not at all clad…women. Not my favorite thought. I guess…I'd rather you do that prior to the wedding…but, I'm sure it's not as much fun to go out by yourself."

"You want to come?"

"Pretty sure you won't confuse me for one of the guys…"

"Pretty sure I'd rather watch _you_ lick something off of scantily clad women than Wilson."

She chuckled, "If you want to go out tonight, or if you need to go out after we get back…"

"Do you have any idea how many times I've gone to see strippers?"

"A lot"

"Excellent guess…your knowledge of me is so uncanny I'd swear you were psychic!"

"Ass"

"I've seen countless strippers, and…hate to tell you…I do NOT lick things off of them. That's just disgusting…do you have any idea where some of them have been?"

"OK…I trust you…we're fine…you can go."

"Most of my life has been a bachelor party, I'll embrace my new lifestyle now…for you!" he said with a grin.

"What about the rings?"

"You go get the dress, and if you want to, you can do nail-hair cutting girl things. I've got the rest covered."

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

She leaned over toward him in his seat. "You know…" she whispered, close enough that he could feel her breath on his neck, "You…planning all of this stuff…is an incredible turn on."

"Is it?" he smirked, knowingly, "I thought you might appreciate that…or…hoped you would."

He stopped talking when she leaned over next to him, wrapping an arm around his front, and reaching around to tickle his neck with her fingertips while bringing her lips to his neck just below his ear. He sighed at the feeling of her next to him, drawing closer. "Let's go back…find our bed," she whispered, seductively.

He nodded while she traced her fingers slowly down his collar bone, swooping her hand down under his shirt to press against the warm skin of his stomach and chest, and scratching at his nipple with her fingernails. "Or…" she said, as she ran her flattened hand from his chest to his side, pressing firmly and steadily down to his hip, "We could go upstairs, and finish what I tried to start with you on the pool table during our first trip here."

He chuckled, a slow, lured-in sigh, while her hand traveled from his hip to his upper thigh and slid across the top of his jeans. He stopped her hand with his free one and said, "We do have a lot to do."

"Right," she doubtfully responded. "You want to play hard to get?" she said her hand moving tantalizingly closer.

"I'm driving," he reminded her.

"My powers of observation aren't as strong as yours, but I'm pretty sure I noticed that. I just want to make sure I have your attention the moment we get back."

"You have my attention…trust me."

"We're almost there…I need to demonstrate to you exactly how much this all means to me."

His breath escaped raggedly, "Cuddy, seriously, it's hard enough to get up the stairs with my leg…you're only making it harder."

She smirked at his choice of words, "More difficult…" he clarified, "You are making it more difficult."

They pulled into the driveway after what seemed like ages. "I can't talk you into a quickie? We have to learn these skills if we're going to be married…We have. To Be. Committed," she said.

"To sex?" he asked, "I think we're already pretty committed to that."

"To sex, even in the face of adversity…or short amounts of available time," she said, in her own version of the secret spy voice.

He wrapped an arm around her and was coaxed into a kiss. They managed to make it to the storage room off of the foyer. He scooted her up onto the deep freeze to rid her of her shorts within only a few short seconds. When he tried to remove her shirt she stopped him.

He kissed along her neck and, shoving her shirt out of the way, since he wasn't supposed to remove it, he kissed and licked his way down her body to try to taste her. She pulled him back up, "Concentrate, House, quickie."

"Are you sure this is still fun?" he mumbled.

"It's fun"

"Feels more like restrictive," he complained.

She opened his jeans and pushed them down only as far as she needed to, and pulled him toward her. While she was removing enough of his clothes, he slid his hand to her warmth, and already found her aroused and ready for him, making him shudder with delight, knowing that she always seemed to have such a powerful attraction to him. He explored as much of her as he could before her inevitable removal of his hand, now excited by their hurried and pragmatic encounter.

She scooted her hips closer, "Now," she said, urgently.

When he initially entered her, she watched his head tip back with pleasure and she said against his neck, "Still don't think this is fun?"

"OK. Yea, it's fun," he muttered.

She sounded so fantastic, whispering the perfect words in his ear, moaning against him, and he felt himself approaching climax faster than he thought he would. He slid one hand down to touch her with his thumb, to lead her closer to satisfaction. With a few masterful presses of his thumb, her orgasm hit and the sounds and sensations she produced brought him with her.

He leaned against her, his cheek against her shoulder, her legs still around him. After a few minutes, he said, his voice showing signs of exhaustion, "How'd I do? Did I follow the rules?"

She giggled. "Yea, that was…the perfect quickie. All we have to do now is go do something else besides have more sex and we'll be completely successful."

They went upstairs, as he fought the tiredness in his leg. Once they both made it, they sat together for a few moments on the sofa. She was leaning against him, trailing her fingernails across his abdomen while they chatted. "How long do I have to wait?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, you've designed these rules for a quickie, and I'm trying to comply. But you're touching me, and tickling me, and pretty soon I'll be turned on…and you're gonna yell at me about how I suck at this."

"I would never complain about you and sex."

"Except for this one thing," he said, jokingly. "And I don't want to disappoint, so maybe you should stop that whole touching me thing. So that I can finally fulfill this need for you too! You do realize that you have a very long list of demands, don't you?"

She looked at him defiantly while inching her fingers lower. They had sex again, after she promised to consider him the 'complete embodiment of a sexual god'. They fell asleep in their room peacefully sated.

"*"

* * *

><p>She woke to the sound of his phone ringing. He said, cheerily, "Time to get up and enjoy your last few hours of freedom!"<p>

"Who's that?" she asked, her face against his ribs.

"Mother of the groom," he answered, as his fingers skated across her back.

She heard the sound of people downstairs. "Oh my god," she said with frustration, "he said he wasn't going to be here this weekend…"

He smirked at the fact that Cuddy knew who he meant. "I made him come. We need witnesses…two of them, for this whole thing to take. I figured you'd rather have Wilson and Ann than Arlene and my Mom."

"Agreed…since Mom is a lot of what I'm avoiding back at home," she answered.

"Hey…" she said after a few minutes, "is your mom going to be upset about missing this?"

"She'll be fine. We'll invite her to the other thing...or I'll take you to meet her…or re-meet her…"

"You mean as your love interest and not in the evil, wicked, bitchy boss sense?"

He thought for a moment, "There were quite a few adjectives in there…too many for me to just flippantly agree with before I'm fully awake…agreeing to a statement like that is grounds for divorce down the line. So I'm going to be the devoted male and say…as a love interest and not my employer."

"You're already thinking like a husband!" she complimented, while pushing herself upright. "Last few hours of freedom, hunh?" she asked.

"I really hope so," he answered.

She could see in his eyes, the underlying concern that something could, and probably would, go wrong. "If _this_ doesn't happen," she said, pointing between the two of them, "It's either because of natural disaster, or because _you_ decide to walk away. So, don't worry…enjoy your time with Wilson and your last few hours flying solo."

When they went downstairs they saw Wilson and Ann standing in the kitchen. Ann was uncomfortably large, but looked happy. "My god," Cuddy said, when she reached over Ann's sizable stomach for a hug, "You shouldn't even be traveling!"

"I know…so far away from home, and if I go into labor, wherever will I find a doctor?" she teased.

"True," Cuddy agreed.

"If you go into labor, don't come to me for assistance," House interjected, "Yours…are not the legs I hope to be stuck between for my honeymoon."

"Well," Ann responded, "I'm pretty sure you weren't the first person I'd ask."

"OK…then here's the addendum to my previous statement…I hope Cuddy isn't stuck between your legs for our honeymoon either!"

She walked over to House in an attempt to hug him, "Congratulations," Ann said, with heart-felt sincerity, settling on squeezing his forearm, since getting any cooperation in a hug seemed unlikely.

When Cuddy and Ann left, Wilson said to House, "What do we have to get done today…not much time left!"

"It's all done," House said, calmly.

"You have rings?"

"Yea"

"Clothes to wear?"

"Yea"

"_Clean_ clothes?"

"Wilson…I am capable of doing my own laundry. I'm not actually marrying Cuddy for her services as a maid."

"I'm sure there is something you have to do!"

"Yea…we have to get flowers"

"_You…_are buying flowers?"

"First you're upset that I don't have enough to do…then you're going to mock me for the one thing that I want to do?"

"It's just odd."

"It's really not. That's not something I usually do…she _knows_ it's not something I usually do… so it will be even more meaningful."

"You seem on edge," Wilson said, "You having second thoughts?"

"No, I'm not."

"Is something else wrong?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" House asked.

"Tell you what?"

"About Rachel. Don't you think I deserved to know? I was…part of their lives…at least for long enough to be told something like that."

"I didn't know where you were, and I wasn't about to be the one who brought the two of you back together…then I'd just be meddling, right?"

"You just assumed I should be kept away?"

"I…was actually on your side a lot after the breakup. With the exception of your sham wedding…I felt she treated you…a bit harshly."

"So…if I was the victim in all of that…why not tell me…let me decide if I should be involved?"

"You didn't let me finish…I was on your side until your actions became so out of control that you could have killed her…I'm not saying you wanted to kill her…I'm just saying that you could have."

"OK. But I still think you could have at least let me know what happened…when it happened."

"I couldn't risk that…and I didn't know where you were."

"You could have found me."

"Yes. I could have. I didn't tell you because…I knew you'd go find her."

"Because I'm such a jerk, that I'd take advantage of her? I'd screw with her while she was already in her weakened state?"

Wilson smiled, somewhat sadly, "No…"

"Then why?"

"Because I knew how much you cared about her. You never would have gotten so angry if you weren't that hurt. And you wouldn't get _that_ hurt unless you really loved her. I knew how you'd react. At first you'd tell me you weren't going to get involved. And then later that night, you'd start to think about it, and you'd decide to go see her…probably…_try _to help her."

"And that would have been _bad_?"

"I knew you'd _try_ to help her…I wasn't sure if you could. And I didn't think she could handle that…after everything. I worried that for one…or both…of you, the pain would be too much. And someone would actually die."

"Do you still feel that way?"

"No!" Wilson answered. "When I saw you with her, last time we were here…you guys were…really good. I saw you two, when you thought no one was watching, with your arm around her…not…angling for sex…not playing games…just…caring. Then I saw you guys at the hospital, and…you worked well together. She…definitely wasn't embarrassed of you, or hesitant, and you both looked…completely smitten. You guys weren't like that before."

"I cared about her…even before."

"You may have…but you both wanted so desperately to protect yourselves that you couldn't get to the place where you are now! I did…what I thought was best. For both of you. Now…you seem open to the fact that you might _actually_ care about her…not just her body…and she's realized that you actually are…underneath your brash exterior…a good guy."

House disregarded the last portion of Wilson's statement with a scoff.

"Well…we're half way there, at least _she_ thinks you're a good guy."

"Wilson face it…even _you_ don't think I'm a good guy."

"I didn't, House, but you were my friend. For a long time…pretty much my only friend. I think…like it or not…and don't bite my head off…you've changed. And…so has she. So have I. Maybe it was good for us to have some time apart."

House nodded, avoiding Wilson's gaze. "Absence makes the heart…forget what an asshole I am?"

Wilson laughed, "You are going to be OK…no…no. You are _going_ to be happy. If the two of you managed to get over everything in the past, and get to this point in your relationship, you probably have a better chance of making it than anyone else on the planet."

* * *

><p>Ann meant well, but was a poor choice of girlfriends to 'run-around' with. She was due to deliver her baby within the next two weeks, and was much more adept at waddling than running, and had to stop every hour to use the bathroom. In any event she was kind, and eager to help her friend pick a dress. The two sat and chatted during one of many breaks.<p>

"You are one of the most high-strung people I have ever met," Ann said.

"Thank you?" Cuddy asked.

"I wasn't finished," Ann said with a laugh. "You are one of the most high-strung people I have ever met, and strangely, the day before your wedding, when any other woman on the planet would be completely stressed-out, you are as cool as a cucumber!"

"I think I like the simplicity. House and I…we've had a lot of stress and tension since…forever. Plus, he knows if we do something big, my mom will be following me around dictating, my sister will probably be scowling her disapproval…and…I'll be completely miserable. He's right. This is supposed to be for us."

"I'm glad to see how happy you are Lisa. I really am. It's funny that you are so relaxed with the one person that used to cause you the most stress."

"That…is a bit ironic."

"I'll be honest Lise…I'll never understand how it's possible that the two of you work. Such _huge_ personalities…so stubborn and bullheaded."

"Me?" Cuddy said, feigning innocence.

"And yet, for some reason…it's almost like you each need someone equally obnoxious."

"Well isn't that sweet," Cuddy said.

"It isn't an insult," Ann said with a laugh. "I think a lot of people would kill to feel that degree of intensity with someone…whether good or bad. Most people seem to just live these boring, blasé lifestyles, and sure…they fight a lot less, but I don't think they have anything like the depth of love and attraction that the two of you have."

* * *

><p>That night, Wilson kept House up on the third floor, shooting pool and smoking cigars. Ann kept Cuddy on the second floor. Wilson and Ann were insistent that they should spend their last evening and night apart. "That's stupid!" House insisted at the suggestion.<p>

Wilson answered, in an overwhelmingly sympathetic tone, "Awww…House doesn't want to be away from his special lady for a few minutes." His tone shifted to one filled with bravado, "What about man time and doing manly things, casting the women-folk aside?"

"God you're irritating"

"Trust me, you'll miss her tonight, and it will make it all the nicer when you see her in the morning."

Cuddy went to sleep in a bed alone, missing his presence far more than she wanted to admit.

Around one am, when he thought Wilson was sleeping, House tried to sneak down to her room, remembering the way they had snuck around behind Wilson and Ann's backs months earlier in that very same building. When he walked out into the living area, he heard Wilson's disapproving and tired voice, "You're getting mushy in your old age, House. Go back to bed."

"Meddler!" House mumbled as he trudged back to bed.


	67. Chapter 67

**A/N**-_Thank you so much to everyone who read and those who left a review: CaptainK8, TheHouseWitch, IHeartHouseCuddy, JLCH, Bakerstreet Blues, HuddyGirl, Abby, KiwiClare, Alex, lenasti16, LoveMyHouse, LiaHuddy, housebound, Suzieqlondon, Josam, dmarchl, ClareBear14 and Mon Fogel.  
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_This week, work has me on the road pretty much every day, which makes for very long days. Rather than keep you guessing, I'll schedule myself to post updates Monday, Wednesday and Friday._

_OK...(finally, right?) here's how I see it.  
><em>

**Disclaimer- **_I don't own the characters of House, MD_

* * *

><p>Not long after Cuddy finally managed to get to sleep, she felt a soft hand on her arm. "Get up, sexy. Time for wedding bells."<p>

She blinked several times, trying to focus on the person in front of her. "Kate?" she asked.

"Yea. You didn't think I'd miss this, did ya?"

"How did you get here? You aren't supposed to be driving yet!"

"Not much time. You want to get a shower before you get dressed?"

"It's…still dark. What time is it?"

"Four-thirty. The grouchy bastard wanted to come wake you up himself, but Wilson said no."

"You finally met Wilson?"

"Yes…and House said to tell you that he feels this is 'the finest testament of his love for you'. Care to explain that to me?"

Cuddy snickered, "You and Wilson are very caring personalities. I think he feared it would be a bit much. Now, why am I getting up so early? No matter what he has told you, it doesn't _actually_ take me six hours to get ready."

"I know…I'm not allowed to say much. Just get up, and get ready."

"Where are we going?"

"Not saying anything else…now get ready!" Kate insisted, "Either Ann or I will be outside the door if you need anything."

Cuddy showered, feeling the loneliness of the previous night, and hoping there would be very few nights in her future when her bed would feel so empty. As she worked her hair into a full lather, she recalled so many mornings when she didn't wake up early enough to shower before Rachel woke. She remembered trying to shower quickly while Rachel waited for her, seated on the bathroom floor reading stories or coloring.

Being a single mother had so many ups and downs, and she recalled the frustration of feeling like she didn't even have enough free time to shower in peace. She also remembered that, as Rachel grew, sometimes the time they had while Cuddy readied herself in the morning led to meaningful conversations and priceless memories of the two of them together.

Her mind wandered as she rinsed the shampoo, to Rachel, and how she would have looked had she been there for that day. Rachel was of the age where she really enjoyed dressing up. Cuddy pictured her, in a frilly dress, carrying flowers, probably rocking back and forth on alternating feet nervously. Cuddy imagined having a heartfelt talk about how important Rachel was to her, her daughter, her baby, and that no outside force could ever change that.

The steam filled the shower stall, creating a thick haze, and Cuddy almost swore that she could see the outline of her daughter, sitting on the other side of the curtain as she did on so many mornings. As Cuddy was finishing her shower, she couldn't help but wonder if House would have had some sort of talk with Rachel about things before the wedding. She doubted he would have a 'we're a family now' discussion, but she could easily imagine him, beginning somewhat stiltedly, mentioning some particular thing they'd do together in the days or weeks after the wedding. She envisioned her daughter, older than when he had known her, approaching him with some sort of show of affection, probably something subtle, but reassuring. She could hear his words as clearly as she would have if he and Rachel were actually sitting right outside of the shower, "So…we're good. Right kid?"

She felt a sense of peace wash over her, much as it did in the cemetery. It was the knowledge that her daughter would have been perfectly fine with this, in fact, she felt that, in some way, Rachel would probably find more peace knowing that her mother wasn't alone in the world any longer.

She wished Rachel and House could have known each other like this: when Cuddy was comfortable enough with him to no longer try to manage his responses, when he was open enough to allow himself to truly feel without the overwhelming fear, and when Rachel was old enough to bring her own personhood fully to the relationship.

She pictured the two getting along pretty well, and imagined that she'd occasionally complain that it was like having two kids. She wished she could have made that complaint.

Cuddy knew that she was finally where she was supposed to be as certainly as she knew her own name. Although she had little idea what he planned for the two of them, she knew that wherever the day would take her, whatever his plans, the day was for them, a celebration of everything they had been, who they were, and where they were going.

* * *

><p>House was dressed an hour before Cuddy got up. He wasn't sure why he gave himself so much time, but he fidgeted nervously, wishing he had something to do. He wanted to be downstairs, watching her get ready, and he wondered what she would look like when he finally saw her. After only one night, he missed his access to her, missed being in her orbit. Wilson was right, he was getting mushy, he thought with some disdain. Thinking of her, he couldn't help but accept the fact that <em>who<em> he was allowed him to be _where_ he was.

He listened to the sounds around him. He heard a shower turn on, and realized it was probably Cuddy getting ready. His mind raced to the two possibilities that would face him in about an hour. The events that would occur would be life changing. Would he have to deal with loss and despair when she told him that she couldn't follow through with it? Would he have to decide which path to take after devastation, again? Or, was it really possible that she would show up. That she would recite vows, and listen to his, and seal her commitment with a promise and a kiss.

Again his life was approaching a pivotal moment. Later that same day, he'd either be in a car with Kate, driving back to return to his life of loneliness, or he'd be married to the woman he wanted more than anything else.

There was a knock at the door, and Kate slipped into the room, "Hey stud muffin. She's up. She's getting ready now."

House nodded vaguely.

"She's going to be there," Kate said, sitting down next to him on the bed, "You're going to be there too, right?"

"You think I'd back out?"

"I think part of you will always wonder if you deserve anything good. If you run it wouldn't be for lack of love. It would be for lack of a sense of self-worth. You spend all of this time trying to look so self-assured…and it's all…complete crap."

"And you're a bitch with commitment issues," he countered, childishly.

"How astute!" she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "What you planned…all of this…is amazing. And she is seriously, probably the luckiest bride I've ever known."

She expected a protest from him and added, "And I swear, if you deny any of that, I will kick you so hard you won't be able to locate your testicles for a month. So if you want to enjoy your honeymoon, just accept what I've said to be fact."

He smiled before dropping his head in his hand. "She is gonna show?" he asked, looking at her and showing more weakness than he wanted to, but desperate for third party confirmation.

"Guaranteed. Go on outside," she said as she stood. "Thanks for letting me be here." Kate added, "It means a lot. And see…I told you when she showed up at the bar that something good could come of this. I fucking told you so."

"I love that your pre-wedding pep talk includes the phrase, 'I fucking told you so.' _Really_ mature."

"Go check out everything, make sure it's the way you want it."

* * *

><p>When it was time, Kate went to get Cuddy. "My god, you look amazing!" she said, kissing Cuddy softly on the cheek.<p>

"Thanks," she responded, smiling almost shyly.

"Lisa, you have no idea how happy it makes me to see you guys like this, but...I have an ulterior motive for coming in here."

"OK," Cuddy nodded.

"They sent me to get you, it's time to go."

Cuddy wrinkled her nose, her face giving away her excitement. "Really?"

"Yup," Kate said, leading her out of her room. "Wait, you need your bouquet."

Kate handed her a beautiful arrangement of open, full gardenias, soft and layered. Interspersed throughout the bouquet, were bright purple callas, the vibrance and femininity of the color, a blatant contrast to the off-white gardenias. The arrangement was simple though stunning, and she felt it set the tone for their almost secret wedding. "These are gorgeous, Kate, thank you."

"No…not me. He picked them. They are beautiful. Completely perfect for you."

"Are you going to tell me where we are going that would require us to head out this early?" she asked Kate, with great curiosity.

"You'll see soon enough!"

When they went downstairs they walked out onto the beach, toward the surf. There were a couple of torches lit for light, and a few figures waiting for her arrival. Cuddy's four inch heels would never allow her to walk through the sand, so she kicked her shoes off and began walking toward him barefoot.

Cuddy smirked at how easy House was to pick out. He wasn't holding his cane, so that wasn't the distinguishing feature. His hair was scattered recalcitrantly around his head and he stood tentatively, shoulders slumped. She could tell he was filled with uneasiness and anxiety from the wait.

When she drew nearer, she saw him stand upright, taking a deep, relieved breath when he realized she was actually approaching. She noticed that Ann was standing next to an empty chair. Cuddy suspected the chair was there in the event that Ann grew fatigued or dizzy, and was no longer able to stand, but when she looked more carefully, she saw Rachel's stuffed dog, the one that was under the seat of her car since Rachel's first day of kindergarten, and next to it, a bouquet of white lilies. She looked back at House, who tensed slightly, waiting for her reaction to the gesture.

Finally able to see his face, she mouthed, "Thank you".

He was relieved to see that she was touched, not disheartened, and a slight grin crossed his face. Kate, Wilson and Ann stood by supportively, and Cuddy looked toward the ocean, noticing that it was Celia standing at the front of the group. Cuddy did a double take and tilted her head questioningly.

"Trust me, it's legit," Celia said with a laugh, and Cuddy turned her attention back to House.

He was wearing a neatly pressed suit, that was well-fitted, and he looked unbelievably handsome, the perfect mental image of him for her to tuck into her memory. She smirked as she looked at his outfit more closely, and realized that beneath the fully buttoned jacket was a Michigan tee shirt.

He looked her over, and was awed by how breathtakingly beautiful she looked. She wore a simple white dress, clearly not a typical wedding dress. The skirt went to just below the knee, with a belt that accentuated the curves of her figure. The sleeves barely covered her shoulders, loose and flowy, and the neckline dipped to a sharp, but modest vee. The dress looked like something straight out of the 1940's, elegant, simple and gorgeously feminine.

He leaned down and whispered, "You look amazing."

"So do you," she responded.

Behind them, the night sky was dark and dismal, but to their front, the sky was beginning to show the glow of morning. Celia opened the ceremony with a greeting and then said, "When House told me he wanted to have this ceremony in the morning, I thought he was just being insane. There are tons of beach weddings, and everyone agrees that a sunset beach wedding is the way to go. I agreed to his time, because he likes to do things in his own way, and I figured it had something to do with being opposed to convention and thumbing his nose at traditional expressions of love. Then, I started to think about it. Sure sunsets are beautiful…but here…the sun doesn't actually set over the ocean…the sun sets over the land. Sunsets…are the end of a day. Look at the symbolism. Your days…are not ending today. Your lives are not over. This is the beginning, not the end. All of that aside, in a few moments, right behind me, you will be treated to an amazing view as the sun swallows the darkness and replaces it with some of the most vibrant colors you will ever find."

"I asked House about it," Celia continued, "About why a dawn wedding was so important to him, and after nagging him enough, I finally got a response. His answer had nothing to do with all of my little ideas. It wasn't about going against convention or the dawning of a new day. He told me that when the two of you were here the first time, you told him that he wasn't the kind of guy you wake at 4:30 in the morning to watch a sunrise. He wanted to show you that he was…he _is,_ that guy."

Cuddy smiled, remembering their conversation, touched by his memory of it. Their eyes locked much earlier, before Celia even began to talk, and they were unwaveringly devoted to each other in that moment. Each had a soft smile across their lips. That morning, once the ceremony began, they were free from the past, free of the pain they had experienced, free of their fears and misgivings.

Celia continued with the traditional wedding ceremony moments and then invited them to say anything they wanted to say to each other. Cuddy stepped closer, taking his hands into hers and looking up at him. Without shoes she was small next to him, but stood so closely that they were almost touching. She spoke first, "House, you saved me. You rescued my heart. I went to find you when I thought my life was completely over. I thought there was never going to be a chance of any modicum of happiness again. And like you always do, you completely defied me," she said, her face turning to a grin as a few tears welled in her eyes. "I'm so happy you destroyed that world…because…it wasn't one I wanted to live in anymore. I love you with every bit of myself…with all that I am. You deserve my honesty, my respect and my adoration. I am yours, without reservation, for as long as you'll keep me around, but don't even think about escape…" she said, with a playful grin. "You…are stuck with me now."

She spoke to him directly, completely unconcerned with whether anyone else could hear. In a strange twist brought on by the environment he had selected, no one else could hear a word that she said. The roar of the ocean loudly drowned out the words to everyone but him.

He spoke low, just above a whisper, with the utmost sincerity. "I'm…so lucky that you came to find me. That, of all of the people in the world who would have helped you, you chose to find me when you needed someone. You trusted me…I didn't expect that I would…trust you back. I didn't expect that you could ever love me again…and here we are, more worn down, but…more devoted than I ever thought we could be. You mean so much to me, that I _want_ to be honest and open...I hope you know how much that means. I love you enough to regret every horrible thing I have ever done to you…and enough to forgive you for every horrible thing you did to me, and enough to try really hard not to do horrible things in the future, because I don't want to go back to being without you. You…are definitely stuck with me…although really, you have been…for a long time."

Celia noticed that they stopped talking, although even with her close proximity, she too couldn't hear the words that were exchanged, and appreciated the intimacy of their moment together, the way they disappeared into a place all their own, even in the presence of others.

The two turned to Celia to encourage her to continue, and saw everything that she had promised. The sky was alight with all shades of orange, yellow, pink and purple as shafts of light pierced through the scattering clouds and defiantly lit what _was_ the night sky.

Celia took over, her booming voice carrying to all of the participants, and began the traditional vows. Celia held their rings, discussing the significance of the exchange. She handed House's ring to Cuddy, who had a moment to look at it. She noticed that it was old, not dissimilar to her own engagement ring. She traced it momentarily with the fingers of her opposite hand before placing it on his finger. When it was time, he placed her ring on her finger. She gazed at it for a moment, noticing that it was a nice compliment to her engagement ring.

"Now, listen carefully," Celia said, "Like I've said before, keep in mind, every morning, that you are lucky to have each other. Remember what you had to go through in order to get to this point, but don't let it weigh you down, just know that everything that happened in your lives made you each the people you are today. You both deserve happiness, you deserve to have the person you want, and so many people settle for so much less. In the face of everything that seems so unfortunate, you are actually very lucky. You each found the person that you want, you both, completely screwed up your chances with each other long ago, but found a way to come back together, better for your trials. When you annoy and frustrate one another, remember the nights you went without. Remember the silence, the coldness, the loneliness. Then think about how far you've come. Think about what you have found in each other, and appreciate the rarity of your situation."

When all of the necessary words were spoken, they smiled at each other before sharing the prescribed kiss, lingering against each other's lips, slowly and intimately, a demonstration of love rather than lust. "You know what," Celia declared, "You…are married. Congratulations!"

House picked her up in a hug, and closed his eyes when he felt her tightly holding him in return. He whispered into her ear, "I can't believe you actually came."

He set her down on the ground as she looked up lovingly, "I told you I would."

When reality crept back into their moment, they noticed that their few guests had quietly disappeared from the beach.

House lowered himself to the ground and tapped the sand next to him, and she gracefully slipped down to that spot. He draped an arm around her and she leaned her head against his shoulder. "This was so perfect," she said.

"You look gorgeous," he whispered before kissing her forehead. "Thanks for showing up."

"You were _really_ nervous about that?"

"Yea. I don't take a whole lot for granted anymore."

They sat for a few moments, enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of the ocean on a beautiful sunny morning. They were so lost in each other that they didn't notice Kate behind them, snapping a few pictures before she crept away. The resulting photographs: two people, leaning against each other, framed by the morning sky and the ocean.

"You look unbelievably sexy," she gushed, "and...I have to admit, I'm _really_ glad you didn't shave. It just wouldn't be you."

He chuckled, "I debated that one."

"I really liked the tee shirt," she said, rocking closer to him.

"A little nod to the institution where it all began," he responded.

"The perfect sentimental touch."

"I _am_ a little disappointed that you forgot the most important part of your vows…just like we discussed before we were heartlessly separated by a bossy, although well-meaning, meddler…"

"Really, House? It's not...implied, you need me to spell it out?"

"Yes," he said, nodding with heartfelt certainty.

She took his hand, sat back, and looked him in the eye…"I promise not only to always consider you the complete embodiment of a sexual god, but also to do my part to make sure your skills, as such, remain finely honed. There…are you happy?" she smirked.

"Yea…that's much better. Although I wish we had witnesses." She rolled her eyes before he continued, "You also forgot the part about the number of weekly blowjobs, surrendering your free will to me, and our terms for naked housekeeping. "

"Well…let me respond to each one, respectively: As many as you inspire me to give, not a chance in hell, and I feel you should be allowed to clean naked as frequently as you'd like. I promise I won't stop you."

House chuckled, "I forgot to mention in my vows that I promise to continue to admire your ass, even after I see it day, after day, after day…and to regularly bestow upon you my mad man-skills, whether in the bedroom, playing video games, or when defending your honor in the face of rude advances originating from men who are nowhere near good enough for you."

"It _is _a shame you didn't get to say that in the presence of others."

"Just for clarification, all men who are not me, are, by default, nowhere near good enough for you."

"I'm glad you cleared that up."

After a few more relaxed moments of silence he said, with legitimate, but happy surprise, "I can't believe we actually made it."

She looked up at him, her expression questioning, placing her hand along his scruffy cheek, "Are you going to stop thinking I'm going to disappear now?"

"Probably not," he said, with a smirk, "I'll just enjoy you while I have you."

"So…you don't believe what I said, my commitment to you…my vows?" she asked, with a hint of hurt in her voice.

"Oh, I do," he said resolutely. "I just can't underestimate the frequency with which life seems to screw me over. It's all of the factors outside of us that we have to worry about. But…we need to enjoy it. And…hope that I'll croak first," he added with a smile.

"This was so much better than anything I would have imagined. Celia…did she have a mail order ordination or something?"

"No…she's actually a minister at some little Unitarian church. She's there on the weekends, keeps the job at the hospital for the insurance, and because the job as a preacher pays for shit. We won't mention the minister part to your mother."

"You know, I have to admit, I was a little worried. I was so convinced that Ann was going to go into labor during the ceremony!" Cuddy said, with a laugh.

"Me too. After she got here, and I saw how ginormous she was…I just decided if she did, we'd smack Wilson around, remind him that the early stages of labor could take hours, and tell him to focus for a few more minutes," he said.

After sitting there for quite some time, Cuddy stood up, picked up the lilies and toy dog that House left there for Rachel, and they began their walk back inside. "Sand…is unfriendly to both canes and heels," he said, as she picked up the shoes that she kicked off earlier. "I guess I didn't think that part through."

She pulled his jacket sleeve so that he'd turn to face her. "I wouldn't change a single thing. I loved it. I loved that you planned it. And…it helped that you were the groom."

He responded with a smirk as she kissed his cheek.

"Now, how do we get rid of all of these people?" she asked, "It's sweet that they've come…but now they should leave."

"I agree," he said, as Kate and Wilson shoved through the door past them with their luggage.

"We weren't sure what you needed, so we packed all of it," Kate said, shoving their luggage into Wilson's vehicle.

"Where are we going?" Cuddy asked, turning back to House.

"Dunno," he answered, his face showing that he truly had no idea where they were going.

"Wilson and Ann have a little surprise for you...for your last two nights here," Kate smirked. "Now get in the damn car. We need to get the two of you out of here, so Wilson and I can discuss how to coordinate our nagging and meddling to achieve optimal annoyance," she teased.


	68. Chapter 68

**A/N-**_Thank you to all of you for reading, and really, to all who reviewed, thank you so much for all of your support and very kind words._ _Anonymous, TheHouseWitch, JLCH, LapizSilkwood, suzmom, housebound, IHeartHouseCuddy, leanasti 16, Bakerstreet Blues, Josam, iridescentZEN, CaptainK8, Truth, KiwiClare, Suzieqlondon, ClareBear14, orco, Abby, KatieF-House, Alex, HuddyGirl, grouchysnarky, LoveMyHouse, Jane Q. Doe, bonneiyy77, Pdubou, partypantscuddy, dmarchl, key, Mon Fogel_

**Disclaimer-**_ I don't own the characters of House, MD  
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><p>After packing the car, Wilson and Kate convinced House and Cuddy to come inside to toast their successful wedding before heading off. Wilson and Kate were chatting by themselves, leisurely working their way over to House and Cuddy, who were looking on while Celia signed the marriage license. Kate and Wilson stood directly in front of House, and Wilson said, complete with long, dramatic pauses, "It's almost like…our little boy…" Wilson stopped, pretending to compose himself in the midst of an emotional moment, "has grown up."<p>

Kate patted Wilson's back sympathetically, "I know, dear," she said, sounding like an elderly grandmother. "It's so beautiful, yet so hard, watching them finally spread their wings and fly…and after only half a century…"

"Are we done here?" House asked. "The two of you are a combination that should never have happened. Ever. In fact, I can say my only true comfort in this, is the likelihood that the two of you would never breed, because the child would either be so sweet, and caring it would create a black hole of concern, sucking in everything around it, or it would be the complete opposite…the embodiment of pure evil."

"Embodiment of pure evil? Do they make canes that small?" Wilson teased. "Kate, if you ever decide you want kids, and are looking for a donor…" Wilson stopped when he met the disapproving scowls of both his wife and House.

"If I didn't need you both to pull this whole thing off, you can guarantee at least one of you would be sitting at home right now, missing the blessed event," House responded.

"Such a punishment," Wilson answered, "to think that we could be at home, sleeping, in our own comfy beds at this hour. Well, I feel I've learned my lesson."

"Shouldn't you girls be fighting over me? Desperately trying to demonstrate the reason why you are the true BFF, instead of ganging up on me?"

Wilson and Kate shrugged and stared blankly him.

"Ya know, I _knew_ I should have paid a stranger to be a witness, instead of bringing the two of you together in one location."

"Really, House, I'm so happy to say…I'm happy for you." Wilson said, sincerely, patting House's arm before he went to the sofa to join his wife.

"Thanks for helping," House mumbled to Kate. "I really couldn't have gotten it all done without you. See, again, I'm demonstrating my maturity, while you're deriding me."

"I'm not deriding. You are twice the adult I am," she responded. "You give me hope. We aren't that different. You covered your loneliness and discontent with grouchiness, I cover mine with caring…well, caring and perhaps a pinch of promiscuity," she said with a chuckle. "Slightly different ways to cope, same problem to cope with. Someday, I honestly hope I'm where you are. But don't tell anyone I said that."

Cuddy was walking past the talking pair when Kate yanked her over for a hug. "I guess we're almost related now. Since you are my pretend brother's real wife, that makes you…my…pretend sister-in-law," Kate said.

"I guess it does!" Cuddy agreed.

"Does that mean I have to stop flirting with you?"

"I hope not," Cuddy said, acting as if she were aghast, "What would I do without your attention?"

"That's exactly what I thought."

"It's not like we're related by blood," Cuddy replied.

"Or…reality," House added.

"Look, guys," Wilson said from the sofa, "we better get these two off for their mini-honeymoon. I'm sure they're ready to get rid of us."

Celia warmly congratulated the pair, and thanked them for making her part of the ceremony, then Kate and Wilson packed the couple up and took them to their destination. The two were chatting in the front of the car happily when Wilson stopped speaking, "Why is it so quiet back there?"

Kate squinted warily, "Guys…everything OK?"

When there was no answer, she turned slowly, with almost unparalleled hesitation, peering into the back seat, to find the couple passed out from exhaustion. Cuddy was wedged in the corner between the door and the seat, head tilted back. House was sprawled across the seat, his head on Cuddy's lap, with her hand splayed across his face. Kate snapped another picture. "I don't know if he even slept last night," Kate told Wilson, "and I'm pretty sure she slept about an hour, so they're definitely tired."

They pulled into a parking space about fifteen minutes later, and woke their sleeping friends, who found themselves in a marina. Wilson turned around, "You have two nights on Ann's family's yacht. It's perfect: romantic, isolated and amazing."

Cuddy looked out the window and felt a horrible sinking feeling as she looked at the small, ramshackle yacht in front of her. It looked big enough to have a bunking area below deck and little else. Biting her lip with a concerned look on her face, she silently began to plan how long they should stay out on the boat before returning to find a hotel. A honeymoon without a shower, or really plumbing of any kind, did not sound at all romantic. In such a tightly cramped space, under those conditions, she estimated that she and House would be grumbling within two hours.

House caught her gaze out of the corner of his eye and already decided that they would find a way to decline the offer, before their happy, loving dynamic went flying down the tubes. After all, camping with your dad without plumbing was one thing, but being on your honeymoon, was something entirely different.

"Wilson," House whispered to his friend, "Cuddy gets seasick"

"No she doesn't, she went on a cruise before and she never complained."

"Yea, but a cruise ship and little boat, very different things."

"It isn't that small, House. Just try it!"

House's eyes almost went crossed as he stared at the little boat before him and Wilson said, "If you don't like it, the guy will bring you back."

"We're sharing…with someone else?"

"You won't even know he's there. There's a maid too. They won't bother you."

House was baffled. Now the space wasn't just inconvenient, it was horrible, sharing a boat much smaller than his own bedroom with his new bride, and two strangers, and he was relatively certain Cuddy wasn't going to agree to sex with witnesses, even if he could figure out how rig a shower.

Wilson saw the direction House was looking in and started to laugh, "No…not that one…" and turned his friend around to the face the other direction, "_That _is their boat."

House nodded with relief as he looked at the large luxury yacht behind them. Cuddy was talking to Kate, still attempting to appear calm, and desperately trying not to look ungrateful. House turned her around and pointed. "The boat," he said, softly.

"OH! Oh…OK. Yes. Good," she turned and smiled at him, and then continued, "That? That isn't even a yacht, it's some sort of ocean liner. Wilson, that's too much!"

The yacht was beautiful. It was large, definitely big enough for a few couples to stay on comfortably, clean and it looked almost new, particularly compared to the likely mold-ridden vessel docked nearby.

"Ann is very well off, her parents are insanely wealthy. You guys met her…do you really think she'd go anywhere on that?" he said, pointing to the smaller boat they had assumed was their wedding present from Wilson. "Oh please, I don't even know if she'd get on that docked, much less actually go anywhere. Now, they are going to take you guys up the coast to Jersey, we'll pick you up there. One of us will drive your car back, Cuddy. Everything you need is on board. Relax and enjoy, everything is taken care of for you."

"That is so nice, Wilson! Thank you!" Cuddy said, with a tone of great appreciation.

"Thanks, Wilson," House said, "I appreciate you coming the whole way down here. And…make sure your wife goes home in your car…I don't want her doing the whole labor thing all over Cuddy's upholstery."

Wilson smirked, "Any day now!"

"Good luck, I think you should head home, because...I think it will be today," House replied.

"Care to make a wager?" Wilson asked. "I'm saying Friday. The kid is clearly in no hurry."

"I'll take Tuesday," Cuddy chimed in.

"What's at stake?" House asked.

"Oh if it's you, I want babysitting hours. Not so much because we need the help, but…because I expect Cuddy to take a lot of pictures that I can use against you in the future," Wilson answered.

"You trust me with your kid?"

"You're better with kids than adults, House," Wilson said, sincerely, "Plus, you and Cuddy are a package deal now, so I'm pretty sure everything will be fine."

"What do I get when I win?" House asked.

"What do you want?" Wilson asked.

"A…special Wilson date, I haven't been to see the monster trucks in years. Kate won't go…Cuddy won't go."

"What if Cuddy wins?"

"Then she can come too! Besides," House said, whispering out of the side of his mouth, "Cuddy won't win, she doesn't know vaginas like I do."

"Keep it up, and I'll ensure you won't get anywhere near a vagina over the next few days," Cuddy teased.

"You can have a special 'Wilson' day too, all for you. I won't even make you define your terms in advance, because…I actually trust that you won't force me to do anything illegal or embarrassing," Wilson said.

"You…" Cuddy said, "can help me move if I win."

Wilson introduced them to the staff, and assured them that the entire lower level was completely theirs, unless they called the maid in to take care of something. They said their goodbyes to Kate and Wilson, and were on their way.

They were shocked by the accommodations. All of the finest bedding and towels, luxurious furniture and a state of the art kitchen filled the quarters. A few steps up from the bedroom was a private terrace at the back of ship. House whistled his approval as he looked out the glass doors of the bedroom. "So…pharmaceuticals _is_ where the money is. This is how the other half lives!" he said, as he walked outside.

His removed his jacket shortly after the wedding, but kept his dress pants, an unfamiliar sight to say the least. His pants, shirt and hair whipped around from the wind as the boat began to move. Cuddy smiled as she watched him, his expression animated, while he explored their temporary home.

She walked outside to join him, standing behind him and wrapping her arms around his torso, tilting her head around to the side so she could see him. He pulled her partially around to the front to hold her next to him. "This is amazing. I could get used to this," he said.

"Yes. You _could_," Cuddy responded.

"Why'd you say it like that?"

"Because…you could."

"OK…"

"House, do you have any real concept of money?"

"Well…yea!"

"No, I mean, in terms of what you're worth?"

"I don't know, you paid me well, but not _this_ well. I didn't see _you_ with stuff like this when you worked at the hospital."

"No, you didn't, but…like I've said before, I have a pretty decent stash put away. You and I, out on our own, or even if we decide to contract with the three hospitals, we could _definitely_ do this sort of thing. Maybe not _own_ a boat like this, but, at least rent it. A few years of working like that, some well-placed investments, and we could be done working for the most part. Take only the most interesting cases, when we feel like it, for something to do."

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

"I wasn't all that excited about the jobs I interviewed for. And I used to enjoy the times when I got to be part of your cases…trying to figure stuff out, it was really amazing the few times I actually got to do it. I had fun at our meeting before we left. I like…feeling like we are on the same team. But, I don't want to push you into that line of work, or into working with me at all, if that's not what you want. You need to decide what you want too, so we can _both_ be happy."

"Oh I want to do it," he said without hesitation. "I think we can work a week or two out of the month, and in between, roam the world. I was thinking it might be fun to get into some high-powered fights at work, and then go home and work off our rage," he said, arching a brow.

"Keep you from getting bored…"

"I'm not bored, but, I think it would be fun. With each of our talents…it would work…plus…I have to admit, it's a complete turn on when you go into your 'defending House while I talk about how great he is' mode. I like 'vicious negotiator Cuddy' too, I'd like to see her again."

"I like 'brilliant diagnostician House'."

"Good, because, you just bought him. You actually are part owner…in…_this_…" he said, as he gestured down the length of his torso. "Lucky you, madam!"

She bit her lip as she smiled, "Let me look you over then," she said, stepping back, and walking around him slowly with a discerning gaze.

She pulled off his shirt and he protectively covered his nipples, "Please…I'm modest," he quipped.

"I really got a bargain!" she said, looking him over with a pleased expression.

"You really did. Clearance rack," he said.

"No way…" she said, protectively, "No one's putting this ass on the clearance rack."

She smiled as she leaned up, placing two, and then three, soft, dainty kisses against his lips as he grinned.

"You think just because you bought it that I have to put out whenever you want?" he asked.

"I'm really hoping that's part of the deal," she said, with a grin, before deepening the kiss, holding each of his shoulders and pulling him down to her.

He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down until her feet were flat on the ground for a moment. "Maybe I should have given you more warning," he said with a sense of regret.

"Why? If I was hesitating, I would have told you. There was no hesitation…there was no…"

"No, I mean…I didn't give you the chance to get a pre-nup or anything. Honestly, I didn't even think about it."

She smiled, "House, if you leave me, what am I going to do with the money anyway? If you leave…I promise…money will be the least of my concerns."

"You…mean that, don't you?"

"I do! I wish you could understand that. If _you _want a prenup, or…a…post-nup…whatever it would be at this point, face it, I probably have more money right now, you probably have greater earning potential in the future, I'll sign one. We can sign some sort of contract, if that's what _you _want."

"So…if you had more time, you wouldn't have insisted on one?"

"No! I didn't even think about it. We've both already seen each other at our absolute worst, so there are no unknowns. House, you are intelligent, brilliant actually, handsome…I mean, god you are sexy…talented in so many ways! If you ever realize how appealing you are…you'll be the one to go…"

"No, I won't," he insisted.

"Excellent," she said firmly, "then I think we've agreed. Neither of us…is going…anywhere."

She reached up again, and kissed him, brushing herself against him. He hesitated for a few moments and then said, gruffly, "You know we aren't _really _married until we consummate it."

"My thoughts exactly," she grinned.

She stood with her legs staggered around one of his. He leaned back against the railing on the deck to reduce his height, while she gripped the railing on either side of him. She kissed him slowly, thoroughly, just like he often did, almost hoping that her unhurried and deliberate approach would convey the fact that they had all of the time in the world.

She removed her hands from the railing to run along his sides and back, trying to creep along his skin with the same patience he had so often employed with her. She pulled back and said, "Get your ass inside," nipping at his lip before pushing him toward the door.

She was pulling her own dress from her body moments later, and he watched with amusement as she hurriedly helped him remove his clothes. When she saw his expression she said, "I know, I know, I'm not a patient person."

"If you were, I'd hate to see how long it would have taken us to get together," he teased, "I probably will have traded my cane for a walker by that point."

They took their time exploring, kissing, trying to savor the last stage of their wedding. They were each both needy and giving, trying to fulfill the desires of each other based on each cue, each motion or sound from the other.

"You feel different," she spoke next to his ear.

"What?" he said, momentarily distracted. "Different good…or different bad?"

"Different very, very good," she said, placing subtle kisses along his face down to his lips.

She held his face between her hands, trying to kiss away any doubt he may have had about the words she had spoken. "I know that sounds naïve and stupid," she added.

He did realize there was a difference in the exchange between them. There was an openness in their demeanors and their gazes. A degree of vulnerability and unspoken honesty that simply wasn't present before. The silliness of the idea was not lost on either of them, but it didn't diminish the reality of the feeling. They became rougher with each other, more frantic, because they _had_ to find a way to get closer, to be more united than before. They had spoken honest, and for them, very public, words, and felt a hiccup in the adequacy of their physical communication.

She held him still for a moment, receiving a confused look from him, and she looked him in the eye and whispered, "I do love you, so much more than I can say. It…actually hurts…because…I can't say it well enough…"

She couldn't mask the fear in her eyes at how exposed she felt until he smiled, and nodded and whispered, "Me too," before initiating another kiss.

From anyone else, his words would have seemed insufficient after hers, but from him, she understood the sincerity. She could see it in his eyes, and feel it emanating from his body. They continued, with forceful, deliberate motions, roughly transferring feelings and emotions from one to the other, and then feeling like they found their rhythm and pace and again, that they were communicating adequately once more.

They fell asleep next to each other until mid-afternoon, after far too many waking hours without decent rest, and so much emotional exposure. As she started to stir, she heard him whisper, several times, with increasing volume, "Hey, Cuddy, you awake?"

She didn't answer, but he could see the hitch in her breathing that was very nearly a giggle. "I'm hungry…go make me something," he whispered.

Her eyes flared open and he grinned smugly, "I thought that would get you up!"


	69. Chapter 69

**A/N**-_Thank you so much everyone, there were some really awesome comments… I'm excited to see so many people still following the story, and to those who reviewed, some of them really had me cracking up: JLCH, housebound, lenasti16, TheHouseWitch, IHeartHouseCuddy, partypantscuddy, dmarchl, Elco, CaptainK8, KiwiClare, Bakerstreet Blues, Josam, Abby, Alex, Truth, HuddyGirl, LoveMyHouse, LapizSilkwood and yahnis, you guys keep this fun_.

_I finished up Friday's installment early, so, here it is._

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter includes adult content (Marked between the "*")  
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><p>They found a well-stocked kitchen, filled with many of their favorite foods, realizing that Wilson must have shopped for them or at least provided the list. After a shower, Cuddy couldn't find House anywhere in their area of the boat. When she finally located him, he was standing on the main deck next to the crew member who was steering the boat. She smirked when she saw House, sunglasses on, with a cigar hanging out of his mouth, fishing off the side of the boat for large game fish. "Gonna catch you a big'un," he said, smiling at her, "It's all for you, woman!"<p>

She walked over toward him, leering with amusement, "My, you look rugged and swarthy!" she teased.

"I know! I'm on a quest," he said, as he reeled in his line. "This," he gestured toward the crew member, "is Smitty."

The man extended his arm to shake Cuddy's hand, "Clive," he corrected, "my name is Clive. It's nice to meet you."

"We talked about this, Smitty," House replied, "No tough, weather-worn sailor would call themselves _Clive_."

Clive certainly didn't look like a "Smitty"…or a weather-worn sailor. He looked like he belonged at the yacht club. He was exceptionally well-groomed, with a crisp, sharp uniform, and looked more like an established accountant or a lawyer than an aging, rugged ship's captain.

Cuddy was dressed in a bikini, with a wrap around her hips, and House felt the undercurrent of irritation when he saw that Clive was looking over his new wife, and realized that he would likely, for the remainder of his life, get irritated by other men looking at her. No piece of paper would change that.

Cuddy walked over toward the lounge chair to sit down, and House quickly put back his fishing gear. "This sun is really too intense for your skin," House insisted.

"Which is why I put on sunscreen," she said, without lifting her head.

"I'm going to get a shower."

"OK," she responded, still lying there.

"Can you come with me? There are steps…and…my leg hurts," he said, clutching his thigh.

She lifted her head from the lounge chair, "Right…" she said, standing up and walking over to him. "Come on, Ahab, you can catch your big'un later."

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><p>"*"<p>

Once they were back down in their quarters, she looked at him, hands proudly on her hips, "You are _still_ a jealous idiot."

"True!" he said, walking slowly over to her, "But _you_ dressed like that."

"Yes, how abnormal of me to wear a bathing suit on a boat. Completely over the top. You want me not to dress like this?"

He scrunched his face with thought, "More like, there's very little over the top, and I like that you dress like that."

"Cute," she said, smirking, as he kept coming closer. "Your leg…that's so weird, it seems to be doing so much better now than it was upstairs!"

"It is strange," he said, innocently. "But just in case I have another episode, you should help me in the shower."

"I just had a shower, I'll wait here."

He pulled her flush against him, "Eh, now you're covered in sunblock. We start to get down and dirty, the next thing I know, you're so greased, I go skidding across you and out the door, into the water. Do you really want to explain _that_ to people when they ask how I got thrown overboard?"

She grinned, "You are crazy."

Sitting on the back of the sofa, he pulled her between his legs. He ran his fingers slowly up her outer thighs, and along her waist, brushing them across the sides of her breast, and he could see the passion flare in her eyes from that attention alone. "I'm crazy because I enjoy the way your skin feels against me? So…soft and smooth. I don't want that crap between us," he said, entirely pleased that he could so easily provoke the exact reaction he wanted from her.

"You know," he said, his voice low and smug, "you always do that, when you're trying to play it cool."

"Do what?" she huffed.

"That thing where you twist and bounce your leg. Are you…trying to distract yourself or something?"

"I don't…" she stopped, as she realized she _was_ lightly twisting her leg. "I'm an energetic person," she defended.

"Of course," he said, leaning down toward her and grazing his lips along the stretch of her neck, "A strange manifestation of your energy…that only appears when you are really turned on…but you don't want me to know that you are really turned on. Like when you grin, that smug little grin, and stick your tongue between your teeth toward you cheek. You think you look really unflappable, don't you?"

She breathed out a nervous chuckle. "You think you know me so well?"

"You know that I do," he nodded, confidently, as he pushed her bathing suit aside to touch her warmth.

"I thought you wanted me to wash off the sunblock first…make sure you don't go flying overboard…"

"I'll just hold on really tight, I'm resourceful. I'm also hoping you didn't put any sunblock on the covered parts," he said as she smiled.

All of her leg twitching and confidence faded in a matter of seconds, as if someone flipped a switch. He could see the gradual transition, from smugness to delight, as she enjoyed his touch. He saw the arousal in her half-lidded eyes before he buried his face against her neck, continuing to steadily press, flick and circle her. She wrapped one arm around his neck, resting against his body, counting on him to prevent her from losing her balance.

He loved this side of her, completely entrusting him with her physical being. She had no reservations about his ability to take care of her like this, and, strangely throughout their history, always trusted him that way, even when she barely trusted him with her feelings, she trusted him physically. Although he sometimes wondered why, he realized that she knew he couldn't hurt her, that he'd never do anything against her will at the moments when she was completely vulnerable.

He could feel her whole body shifting with her breath, and loved the way the soft skin of her face was pressed against his. She reached up with her other hand and gripped his forearm, grasping with greater strength as her pleasure increased. He slowed down before coming to a complete stop, refusing to let her finish so easily.

She looked up at him, disappointment evident on her face, her eyes confused, while her mouth gaped, "What?" she said, "Why did you…"

"You are right, I need you to wash off the sunscreen first."

She looked at him with a look that he knew would turn into irritation as soon as she could step out of the cloud of arousal.

"Now," he continued, "I feel you are probably sufficiently motivated to shower with me."

He quickly pecked a kiss on her lips, prepared to leave, and when he saw her sad expression he chuckled, "Are you pouting? Don't pout!"

She shook her head, "That felt…really, really good…I can't believe you stopped!"

"I'll make it up you later," he said, with confidence, although he could already feel his resolve slipping.

"OK," she said, her voice lacking bite, as he could see the disappointment settling over her.

He slinked down onto the floor and pulled her in front of him to slide the bikini bottoms off of her, leaving the wrap around her waist. He pulled one of her legs around his shoulder and looked up at her, "Do you remember? The first time I did this?"

She nodded, her breath quickening again. "God, yes," she answered, hoarsely.

"Me too," he said, before picking her up and lowering her to the floor.

She loved the feeling of being the entire focus of his attention, as he built her up again so methodically that she thought she might lose her mind. At that point, she was torn between wanting some resolution to the tension that felt like it had been building in her for an eternity, and wanting the pleasure to continue indefinitely.

He felt her tense, and knew that it was a combination of cresting arousal, and the concern that he'd pull away again, leaving her an uncomfortable, frustrated wreck. She groaned unhappily when he backed away again, placing one hand along the lower part of her stomach, and said, "Stop worrying!"

She closed her eyes, wondering if he was toying with her, and heading for the shower in spite of his words, when he snaked up her body, with more grace than she thought he possessed. He pulled her thighs up around him and drove into her fluidly, her state of sustained arousal facilitating the ease of their union. His pants were left behind him on the floor, and he latched his arms around her tightly, hoping she wouldn't decide to walk away at that point to pay back the sense of frustration. He used all of his weight, as well as the strength of his arms, to crush himself into her, her sounds of pleasure on the sensation of being filled...of being completed...almost enough to make him finish before he really got started.

He was torn between his desire to distance himself mentally for a few moments, to prolong the session as long as he could, and his desire to get lost in her. "Where are you?" she asked, when she saw his disconnect.

"Right here with you," he said, his voice unsteady.

He sounded so vulnerable, so filled with need himself, that when he kissed her, demonstrating his presence in the moment, his focus on her, she tightened and clenched around him, her hips thrusting back to meet his, and she moaned, softly, almost weakly, but with the sound of a woman who had surrendered completely. With that sound, there was no hope of holding off any longer, as he climaxed with the same complete abandon.

The boat could have been overturned by a storm in that moment, and neither would have noticed. She twisted and twitched a few more times, and he had to pull away, his body unable to withstand any additional attention. "You are…so amazing…" she said, curling up next to him. "I swear every time I think this is not going to get better…it gets better."

He barely managed a laugh, still unable to speak.

"*"

* * *

><p>They fell into a half sleep until his leg began to protest far too much, and he slowly sat up. "Shower," he managed to say.<p>

Seeing the pain on his face, but knowing that he still hated the weakness he felt it showed, she hopped up and said, "I could use a soak," disappearing into the bathroom to run a very hot bath, so hot it would take time to sink into, and giving him a chance to compose himself without her looking over his shoulder.

He knew what she was doing, and the unassuming way that she was doing it, and he appreciated it more than words could say. When he went into the bathroom, she was there soaking on the one side of the oversized tub, and he slipped into the other. Once the heat from the bath began to work its way into the remaining muscle, he said, "So…you're actually moving…everything?"

She sat up and looked at him, unable to decide exactly what to say. "I dunno…if that's…"

"Don't even ask if it's OK! I married you, and you think I expect you to maintain a separate residence?" he responded.

"I guess I wasn't expecting the question."

"Are you sure you are ready, to get rid of the place? I mean…the…memories there…"

"That place wasn't really my home. I have a storage unit filled with things from the home Rachel and I shared. After we…" she stopped talking and leaned back, tilting her head against the edge of the tub.

"It's OK, Cuddy. We don't talk about it much anymore, but it still happened. After I went bonkers…and you and Rachel had to move…" he said, gesturing with his hand that she should continue.

"After we had to move, that new place always felt like…just some place we were hanging out in until we could go home," she finally said.

He nodded, "I don't want you to hesitate talking about that crap that happened between us. We've spent far too much time being open to suddenly start walking on eggshells. Why would you…hesitate now?"

"You may not believe this," she said with irritation, "but I don't actually like throwing stuff like that in your face. I know you feel bad…there's no need for me to…bring it up all of the time. I don't…want you bringing up everything I've ever done wrong at every available moment."

"Every available moment? You haven't said anything about that in…actually I can't even remember the last time you said anything about that! You aren't bringing it up to throw it in my face the same way I'm not doing that to you. It's just part of us…like anything else in our mutual past…you should be able to mention that like you mention the day you hired me, or some case that you helped on…it's been forgiven but it's still something that happened."

She leaned back and was fidgeting with her ring. "Now," he continued, "I think selling your place is a wonderful idea. We can use some of the money toward our startup costs for our consulting gig."

"Are you…keeping your apartment?"

"I was going to. If we have a case in Princeton, it'll be a lot better than making the drive…and…I don't know if I'll ever really want to get rid of it anyway."

"OK," she said, affirmatively, as she wiggled the ring on her finger, looking at it closely for the first time. "How did you find something that matched the engagement ring so well?"

"Same set. Did you say 'OK' as in 'OK that's fine', or 'OK' as in 'OK but I'm going to worry about it secretly'…which 'OK' is it?"

"Same set?"

"Let's discuss the deeper meaning of the word 'OK' first…"

"There wasn't a deeper meaning, House. OK just meant that I think it's a good idea, and we'll have a place to stay when we're in the area, and…I didn't really expect that you'd get rid of it."

"Oh," he nodded, thinking it over, "Good."

"So…the ring?"

"They were a set. They were already matched."

"And yours?" she asked, picking up his hand to look at his ring closely.

He smiled when he saw the way she touched his hand. The daintiness of her fingers, the gentle way she held his hand in her own. There was a simple humanity in the details of a person, in the observation of parts of the whole.

"When we get back, let's call Simpson and the gang. I think we should sign on for one year contracting with the hospitals. Get back in the swing of things…use their equipment, their space…at the end of the time, decide if we want to go completely on our own."

"That's a lovely idea. Why are you avoiding the question about your ring?" her facial expression changed, "Did you wear this ring when you married…her?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he answered, "the first time it was on my hand was when you put it there…actually it was when they fitted it…but, the first time it was on my hand for more than ten seconds…"

"A family heirloom? It's obviously old."

"I got it when I got the others, can we please…not talk about this!"

"Sure," she said, with resignation. "It's just odd that you just finished telling me that we should be able to talk about things openly."

"I _said_ we should be able to talk about events openly," he answered.

"And buying a ring is an event…" she stopped, "you know what…nevermind. I'm letting it go."

She turned around to lean against him in the tub, trying to ignore the questions in her head.

He sighed loudly, "I bought it with yours. They were from a couple, they were old…very old…they met young, married other people because of…life stuff…met again in their 40's, died hours apart in their 90's. It sounded, in some ways similar to us…minus the dying part…I guess that outcome for the dying part was as acceptable an outcome as I could hope for."

"How did you find all of that out?"

He looked up, obviously very uncomfortable. "You don't have to tell me, House. You brought it back up…"

"Because the antique mall was more of…an estate sale. I was listening…to people at the sale. Their children…were from their previous marriages, sold their stuff, their rings…still disapproving of their remarriage… after fifty years…it was…I don't know."

"That's…so sweet. So…thoughtful…meaningful."

He tipped his head back and groaned his discontent.

"Why would you hide that?"

"I don't know! You know I'm not about feelings and romance…you've always known this."

"Have I?" she asked with surprise, looking over her shoulder at him.

"You've known me a long time…you hold these truths…"

"I do," she said, confidently.

"So, don't try to turn me into some pathetic…"

"Stop," she said, "this, I will NOT tolerate. At all. This…" she said, pointing to her ring, "is totally you. Without a doubt. You _are_ romantic. You just aren't openly demonstrative. You may not let everyone see it, but…underneath it all…you are sentimental…and thoughtful."

"Don't make a huge deal out of some story I picked up at a sale…the whole thing might have been made up to try to boost profits."

"You know that's crap. You are way too observant to fall for a sales ploy. These rings…the flowers for Rachel, getting my med school desk back for me, that time when I was sick and you remembered that stupid home remedy of my grandmother's that I mentioned to you one time…one time…all…hopelessly romantic, sentimental, and…unbelievably endearing."

"All just luck…"

"Bullshit. I don't mind everyone else thinking you're an insensitive prick, but don't try to sell me that story. I don't think less of you for that stuff…what woman possibly would? I don't expect to come home to find fresh cut flowers and candles on the table…that's…not nearly original enough for you, like everything else you've ever done…you do romance better than anyone else…but, you do it your own way."

He was clearly thoughtful, pondering the things she said, and she could see the understanding register on his face. She turned back around, leaning against him and settling in to relax and soak. She yawned and then said, "You have my word…I won't tell a soul."

"Well…" he said, after several minutes, "you can brag about me a _little_."


	70. Chapter 70

**A/N-** _hello to all of the readers, and thank you to those of you who reviewed since I posted the last chapter: IHeartHouseCuddy, Suzieqlondon, Alex, Zaydasky, Abby, HuddyGirl, Bakerstreet Blues, JLCH, LoveMyHouse, housebound, TheHouseWitch, lenasti16, ClareBear14, LapizSilkwood, Josam, Mon Fogel, Way Worse Than Scottish and dmarchl . To all of those who made suggestions/requests, your feedback is certainly appreciated._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>In the very early hours of the morning, House and Cuddy were in bed, chatting and relaxing in comfort. The bedroom was bathed in a surreal blue-grey glow from the light of the moon and the reflection off of the expanse of ocean outside of their cabin. Their honeymoon was to be brief, but was isolated and wonderful, really another perfect location, and besides a few weak attempts to engage in other activities, they largely found themselves preoccupied with each other.<p>

When they met in Kate's bar, Cuddy was the embodiment of devastation, House the epitome of lonely survival. Each of them were dying lonely, long deaths with little hope of recovery, and a short while later, they were the quintessence of a well-matched and passionate partnership.

They threw on enough clothes to avoid being completely exposed, and went out onto the deck off of their room. "When I was growing up, we didn't usually go places for vacation," House said, "really, when you move around that much, it's almost a vacation to _not_ have to pack a suitcase and get on a plane."

"When did you move the first time?"

"I don't ever remember not moving, so…I'm sure I was very young. In all of my early memories, I absolutely hated it. I hated finding new friends, getting used to a new school, the…wait, to see how the on-base housing was…there were times when I'd have to choose which things to take, and which to leave behind. I'd probably sulk a bit after we'd move, but, I remember, when I got a little older, my mom started taking me out to explore the new location. There was always something to check out, and she'd use the fact that I was unbelievably curious to pull me out of the funk. Some places were like this…where there would be a lake, or an ocean, some were deserts, some foresty, sometimes a nearby city, I guess it was a fantastic way to see things we wouldn't have seen. If my dad wouldn't have been in the Marines, I doubt he would have had any job that would have paid enough for us to go anywhere. I honestly…haven't enjoyed travel all that much as an adult until now."

"You have a place to go home to now. Actually, two places."

"And someone with a fat ass to keep my bed warm…life…at its finest!"

She smacked his arm before continuing, "God, House…no wonder you dislike change. I always knew you liked to hold onto your things, but it sort of makes more sense now."

"Didn't really think about it."

"Being continuously uprooted is tough enough, but when you had to pick which things to keep, and which to leave behind, and kept losing friends…that must have been horrible."

House just shrugged as he pondered, "It wasn't all that bad. I wouldn't have experienced most of my childhood adventures if it wasn't for our lifestyle, would have missed out on all of that worldwide exposure."

"What was the toughest thing you ever left behind?"

"Um…one place there was a box of things, just…books, stuff that was sitting around in my room…that someone forgot…unintentionally. I was really upset about that at the time. The one I probably took the hardest…was my bike."

"You had to leave behind a bike?"

"Yea…as in a motorcycle…I wanted one…so bad…believe me. I saved for that thing, hoarded money, change, birthday presents, cash from stuff I could sell… bought it off of some other kid who wasn't supposed to have it."

"Were you allowed to have it?"

"Oh no…no way. But, I was smart enough not to ask permission before hand."

She smiled at him, as she watched him talk, enjoying an extremely rare glimpse into his world in the years before she knew him.

"So," he continued, "I got it, the kid I bought it off of showed me the ropes. That thing was so damn hard to start at first, you know, you had to kick start bikes…there…wasn't anything else, at least not in anything I could afford. I watched people do that for years, thought it looked…amazingly cool. Got out there, did my best impression of someone exceedingly cool kick starting a bike, fell on my ass," he chuckled. "It didn't take long to figure out, but it was funny. That night, I think I rode it everywhere I could before I had to be home. Then, four days later…deployment notice. Talk about a brief love affair."

"So, you had to sell it?"

"My dad was…less than thrilled that I bought it without checking with him, so he told me I'd have to leave it behind. When I went behind his back to try to find a way to take it along…he was even less thrilled…actually that…completely set him off. Then, when I tried to sell it to the kid of one of his superiors, so I could take the money to buy a new one wherever we ended up, he was _extremely_ pissed. I didn't get to sell it, and he gave the keys over to his buddy. That was that. It's nice though, he could smack me around for buying it, trying to keep it, and for trying to sell it, the bike was a win-win-win for him," House said, with a chuckle that wasn't sad or bitter, just accepting.

"That's horrible!" she said, shifting herself over toward him to make physical contact.

He pulled away at first, when a pang of panic flashed through him at her attempt to show compassion, "It's not horrible, it's just a bike."

"Yea…_that's_ what I meant was horrible…the bike," she replied, sarcastically.

He put his arm around her, allowing her close even though, initially, it felt more invasive than pleasant. She didn't say anything else, she stood next to him, comfortably present. When he realized she wasn't going to try to say something comforting, or delve into his psyche, or treat him like a wounded child, he relaxed back against her while the tension abated. He knew Cuddy had acquired bits and pieces of information about his history, but was never certain exactly how much she amassed.

He gazed over at her, trying to decide if he wanted to say something. He pondered whispering a word of thanks, or telling her that he was amazed by how well she knew him and that she honestly cared enough not to press for details, or let her curiosity drive her to poke around for more. He said, "You would be dangerously close to perfect if you'd get that tramp stamp, with 'Property of Greg House' scripted through the center."

"Probably my greatest physical flaw," she answered. After a moment she asked, "Your mom…why don't you talk to her more? The little bit I know, she seemed…nice enough."

"Yea, she nice enough."

"Is it…because of stuff with your dad?"

"Not really," he said, casually, "we were never really like that."

"I'm sure she'd like to see you."

"Yea, I'm sure."

"You keep a lot of secrets from her?"

"She keeps a lot from me too. We spent time together when I was a kid, when dad was gone, sometimes it was just the two of us for pretty long stretches. She…encouraged me to think, got me books, let me rip stuff apart to see how it worked, rarely stifled my curiosity, but we didn't really sit around and chat about the meaning of life. If I had a question, I knew to go find a book somewhere or learn the answer for myself."

"I guess…I don't talk to my mom either. I mean I see her more than you see yours, but it isn't like we really ever say anything deep…or…nice," she said with a giggle.

"Well…the difference is, my mom and I just choose not to really say much. Your mom…fuck…your mom seems to really enjoy tormenting you," House said, loudly, breaking the silence of the early hour.

"She does love me…in her own way."

"Yes…she does love you, and she loves attempting to control you even more. I'm sure you are quite a challenge for her, since you are slightly difficult to control. And…your mother loves a challenge."

"How do you think they'll do?" Cuddy asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Our mothers…at some point they'll probably meet."

House grimaced with unease. "I…think we should try to keep a few people between them, just in case."

"Hopefully your mom isn't too horrified by us being back together."

"Well, I expect she'll come looking for me soon enough, so we should probably try to visit her some weekend…"

"Preemptive strike?"

"Absolutely!" House said with a smile, "She's pretty good at reading me, so she's going to want to take a look at me with her omniscient eye and try to figure out whether or not things are good for me. If things are good, she'll be fine, if she thinks I'm not doing well, she'll probably disapprove. So, when she sees that her son looks better than he has in decades, or really, probably better than he ever has, I think she'll be quite pleased."

Cuddy smiled at his acknowledgment that he was doing well. It was strange enough to see him actually somewhat pleased with his life, but he was actually acknowledging that he _knew_ he was doing well.

"_Your_ mother should be thrilled at having the privilege of having me as a son-in-law. I'm smart, handsome… I'm a gentleman who could have been having commitment-free, wild sex flings with her daughter for a really long time, but decided to make an honest woman out of you anyway. Even back when we were working together, you were willing to my regular booty call, just for the chance to have me!" he teased.

"Would I have been? That's an interesting piece of revisionist history," she responded.

"Oh face it, I could have been making quasi-frequent late night visits to the Dean of Medicine's bedroom. _I_ turned _you_ away."

"No way…I turned you away…more than once," she countered.

"No…maybe once, absolute maximum, but I wasn't really even trying," he retorted.

"You _weren't_ trying? Are you sure…Milwaukee…come on! "

"What about Milwaukee?"

"You really don't remember…that conference…"

She saw him searching his memory. "I think you are misinterpreting," he answered, defensively.

"I've had my moments of vulnerability, and you've had yours," she said, speaking directly in front of him, "but I know damn well I wasn't misinterpreting _that_…"

They were both startled out of their conversation by the beeps and rattling sounds from the vibrating phones that came to life just inside the door as they grew closer to shore, and cell signals great stronger. They each gathered their own phones from inside the cabin to look at the displays. "Fifteen calls, more than half from my mother…" Cuddy said.

"Four from Wilson…must be announcing the arrival of the spawn…I told him she was going to have it."

"Today's Tuesday…my bet was on Tuesday."

"No way she made it to today," he responded, still being playfully confrontational.

"You know what, we'll find out when he picks us up…or since I was probably right, and it was today, when _someone_ picks us up."

They gathered the rest of their things and spent the remainder of their time savoring the moments of privacy, knowing, once again, that they were leaving the comfortable cocoon of escape for a return to the world. This time, there wasn't really a sense of dread associated with that return.

The ending of their honeymoon was drastically different from the ending of their first trip away that Cuddy took to clear her head. When they returned from that very first trip, they were filled with trepidation and uncertainty, at that point not even certain if there was a future possible for them together. Returning from their honeymoon, after a deeply personal, very private wedding, they were returning to their lives with a sense of anticipation.

They thanked "Smitty" and the maid, who they never really remembered seeing, except once to get towels.

Kate was waiting for them on the dock. Wilson and Ann's baby had been born, and Kate was going to take them to the hospital to visit. After welcoming them back, and giving them the rundown on Wilson, Kate said, "Hey, House, I was finally cleared to drive, so I stopped out at work…and I ran into your old boss. He starts telling me that the hospital is trying to convince you to take a position as a hot shot doctor…"

"Something like that," House confirmed.

"How long do you think that will take you…ya know, until you actually start seeing patients?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, looking at Cuddy.

"Depends on whether the hospitals that want to contract us already put together some paperwork and if their offer is in line with what we expect," Cuddy added.

"You want in?" House asked.

"Well, I already heard that I'd be expected to do all of the psych consults, which is great by the way, I get a nice little raise if this whole thing goes through, but I'm sure you don't need me for every case."

"OK, then why the curiosity?" House pressed.

"Well, I have a few ideas for cases out there…but… we'll talk about that, go see your friend's kid, get settled back in, more questions later."

"What the hell's this?" House asked, picking up an amateurishly wrapped box.

"That's your wedding present…for both of you," Kate answered.

"Yes, but what's in it?" he asked.

"I should have explained, the traditional method is to remove the wrapping and see what's inside."

She could hear the sounds of him ripping open the paper.

Inside there was a set of photos from the wedding, far different from ordinary wedding photos. There were photos of each of the participants: a happily grinning Celia, a sleepy Wilson, a very pregnant Ann, a picture of Kate taken by her own outstretched hand. Then, there were the photos of the couple. There was a small one of House, nervously pacing on the balcony, one of Cuddy looking at her bouquet right after Kate handed it to her, and one of the two of them sleeping in the back of Wilson's car after the wedding. The largest photo was the one Kate took after the ceremony of the two of them sitting in the sand, shoulder against shoulder, head to head, leaning in toward each other.

Kate loved this photo, the sight of the two of them, each equally holding the other up, equally preventing the other from falling over to the ground. The bottom portion of the photo was a wide stretch of sand, with the grace and power of the ocean framing the couple on the side. Toward the top was the bright sun, yellow-white, and imposingly unrepentant in its presence. Along the edges of the sky, the remaining brush-strokes of varied colors were fading as the sun banished them for a few more hours until sunset, when they'd be able to return.

Cuddy leaned up, placing her hand on Kate's shoulder, "I didn't think we'd have any pictures at all, but these…these are so beautiful."

"It's no problem, I'm glad you guys invited me."

There was a large envelope at the bottom of the shirt box. Cuddy lifted it out, "Oh," Kate added, "Hold off on opening that one until later, when you're home, just some random papers, your certificate, and prints and stuff, I don't want you to lose anything. Besides, we're here," she almost sung, as they pulled up to the hospital.

Cuddy nodded, tucking the envelope back into the bottom of the box to look at later.

"I'll take your gift home. Your car is in the garage, guys. See you later!" Kate said, as they stepped out of the car.

There was a certain excitement in walking through the doors of PPTH. Something once so mundane was now anything but. They walked through the lobby toward the elevators, as House whined about how unnecessary it was for him to be there, "My influence won't even be appreciated by the little snot bucket yet. Can't I visit when he's bigger? When he can really benefit from the knowledge and wisdom that I possess?"

He pressed the button on the elevator, the pompous but teasing grin on his face melting away, as he heard a voice from behind him, "Hello, Gregory."

Before turning around he said, calmly, "Hey, Mom." He faced her, mostly avoiding her gaze.

"Was I really supposed to think that you were asking all of those questions on the phone in case you got a license some day? I assume you called while you were at a courthouse somewhere…filling them out?"

"Possibly," he responded.

"Hi, Lisa," she said, not unkindly, but still obviously in the process of gathering enough information to make an informed decision about what she thought about her son's new wife, "Or…Mrs. House?"

"She's still a doctor, Mom. The marriage certificate doesn't nullify that."

"We…haven't decided on the name thing yet," Cuddy added, reaching out to shake Blythe's hand between both of hers.

"We are family," Blythe said, somewhat properly, but sweetly, hugging Cuddy.

"How did you know I'd be here?" he asked.

"Well, when I realized you were getting married, I checked all of the local newspapers, because, I thought Lisa must be pregnant, and knowing you, I figured you'd decide to forego convention, and avoid marriage, but you'd probably reconsider as the birth grew closer…decide last minute to marry her. So I was keeping an eye on the birth records, just to be sure. I didn't find either of your names…but I did find a name that I was pretty certain would bring you back here!"


	71. Chapter 71

**A/N**-_Special thanks to all of the reviewers, I tried to clear up a few background issues in this one, hopefully it fills in more of the story: CaptainK8, JLCH, lenasti16, SissiCuddles, freddy, IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, Boo's House, TheHouseWitch, KiwiClare, dmarchl, Josam, huddiness, iridescentZEN, LapizSilkwood, Way Worse Than Scottish, Alex, ClareBear14, Abby, HuddyGirl, LoveMyHouse and Jane Q. Doe. Thanks everyone for still reading the story, I'm always expecting that people will get sick of the show and stop reading, so I'm happy to know so many are still "around".  
><em>

**Disclaimer_-_**_I don't own the characters of House, MD_

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><p>Blythe accompanied House and Cuddy to the maternity ward to see Wilson and Ann's new baby. When Blythe saw the birth announcement in the newspaper from Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, listing her son's best friend, James Wilson, as a new father, she knew her son would have make an appearance at his old haunt.<p>

Wilson warmly greeted all of them, after the initial surprise of seeing Blythe. Ann was holding the baby, swinging gently back and forth in a rocking chair. Cuddy took the baby to hold, warmly congratulating them. House watched with fascination as Cuddy stood, swaying back and forth automatically when she held the baby, rubbing alongside his tiny round cheek and chin with her soft long index finger. She giggled when he'd turn, open mouthed toward her finger, instinctively looking for food. Moving her hand from his face, she took his tiny hand and watched his fingers firmly wrap around hers; tiny fingers, complete with tiny, sharp fingernails and little working knuckles. House couldn't deny that she looked absolutely beautiful when displaying such maternal behavior.

Wilson and Ann named their new baby Adam. He was healthy, just over seven pounds, and already yelling at his parents and anyone who would listen with his entire little body when he wanted something.

After visiting with the group for a moment, Wilson asked House to walk to his office, leaving the three women alone with the baby. When they pushed through the door that had once been the entrance to House's office, Wilson said, "What's going on with this whole idea of you and Cuddy working together again?"

"Sort of a part-time, consulting deal."

"So…first, you marry the woman of your dreams, and now you _are_ getting back to being a doctor, good for you, House! Seems like everything's falling into place."

"Well, she's second in line for the title of woman of my dreams…you were already married," House said, blinking flirtatiously.

"You…sure you and Cuddy can handle this?"

"Yes, dear. And…I can feel it, that comfortable and familiar sensation…of you, climbing up my ass."

"I'm not," Wilson said, throwing his hands in the air. "I just need to know if you really want to do this. They asked me if I was willing to work with the two of you again…as your oncologist on an as-needed basis."

"Yes," House said, "and in case I need you for other Wilsonish functions."

"Fantastic," Wilson said, nodding his agreement.

They fell into silence for a few moments while House looked around the room. "Are you…excited that the kid's finally here?" House asked, tentatively.

"I'm thrilled," Wilson said, enthusiastically, "and…maybe…a bit nervous. It's…a lot. Things…have really changed. So much! I thought I was ready for this, and when he was crying earlier, and nothing made him happy…I realized, we're…responsible for this…person…all of the time."

Wilson looked at House, who was listening without response, allowing his friend to express his concerns. "Here I thought having you as a friend all of these years would have better prepared me for someone so helpless," Wilson joked.

House flashed a quick smirk, still without much response. "House?" Wilson asked.

"What?"

"You're being…awfully quiet. Something on your mind?"

"Nope, just thinking about how to get my office back," House replied.

"Did you guys have fun on your honeymoon?" Wilson asked, ignoring his previous answer.

"Of course. Cuddy was there, with me, voluntarily. What's not fun about _that? _And, I must say, you know how to marry 'em, Wilson. This one is loaded and has the goodies to prove it!"

"If I can't make this marriage work, promise me you won't let me do this again," Wilson said, his concern showing.

"Wilson, I would have tried to stop this one, had I been around…the same way I tried to stop the last one, and…the one before that. One thing I know for certain is…once you decide you're walking down the aisle…nothing stops you."

"I wish that wasn't painfully true," Wilson sighed.

"This time though, you have a new incentive…seven pounds of incentive, stuck in a diaper and wrapped in a blanket."

* * *

><p>"Your son is just adorable," Blythe said to Ann.<p>

"Thank you. I can't believe he's finally here," Ann responded.

"How did you meet James, do work here at the hospital too?"

"No. I'm an executive at D&T Pharmaceuticals…my family started the company. James and I met at a conference, the year Lisa and House moved away. Poor James was so pathetic and lonely…I saw him a few times during the conference…he seemed _so_ sad. This one presenter loaded the wrong presentation on his computer…or someone hated him and obviously changed the slides. Everyone else in the room was either sleeping or trying to be more polite than we were...James started to laugh so hard…and he looked absolutely adorable, his eyes were squinted, watering uncontrollably. I talked him into sneaking out of the session…and we went for dinner and drinks. I think from the moment we walked out the door, we were a couple," Ann said with a happy chuckle.

"The two of you are married?" Blythe asked.

"Yea…we got married about a year after we met. It was pretty fast, but…we both just knew. We agreed…no kids…just the two of us, exactly as we wanted it. James said he was too old, I said I was too busy with my career, then…surprise!" she said, with tired delight. "At first, I was really hesitant. James…was patient, he didn't say much at all. I kept asking him what he thought, and he'd avoid answering. Then one day, I just…flipped out on him, screaming that he was leaving me to figure this all out on my own, and practically ordering him to tell me what he was thinking. He was so sweet. He told me that he thought he didn't want any children…but, after hearing I was pregnant, he started to get really excited. It was so strange how the thought of it grew on us so quickly."

"Well, that's good!" Blythe said, taking the baby when Cuddy offered him to her.

The obstetrician came into the room to check on Ann and the baby, so Blythe and Cuddy walked out into the hallway to wait until they were finished.

Cuddy leaned against the glass wall, arms folded as Blythe stood near, looking beyond her toward new parents in another room.

"You seem fond of my son," Blythe said to Cuddy.

"Fond? I…like your son…I love him. He's…a really good man," Cuddy answered, sincerely.

Blythe tilted her head as she watched Cuddy speak. "You like him?"

"Well, obviously more than like," Cuddy answered quickly, assuming that she had offended the woman.

"No, dear, I understand that. I…actually thought it was sort of interesting that you said you like him. With other women…they've admired him, respected him…you like _him_. There's a world of difference between admiring someone and actually loving them."

Cuddy smiled, understanding what the older woman meant.

"My son…looks good. Actually, dangerously close to happy," Blythe said to a pleased Cuddy. "He isn't taking the drugs anymore, is he?"

"No, he isn't."

"Thank you for helping him with that. I knew someday, something could help him find the will to quit. "

"I…had nothing to do with that. He was clean when I came back."

"Oh," the woman said with surprise. "What made you come back? I know a little bit about what happened between the two of you…enough to know things got a little intense."

Cuddy looked down, feeling a pang of shame for her role in the outcome of their relationship during its last incarnation. "My…daughter died…"

"Yes, I heard," she interrupted, "I… Honestly that has always been my greatest fear with Greg. I can't imagine how terrible that would be, even now…but when he was small…that would have been shattering."

Cuddy looked up at Blythe, initially the tiniest bit irritated to hear yet another person offering their sympathies. When she looked at Blythe's face, she noticed the look of genuine caring, a look of true empathy, so similar to the way House looked when he expressed similar sentiments. Cuddy managed a small grin, and a genuine response, "Thank you, I appreciate that."

"Why would you go see him? Many people don't consider my son to be the most compassionate person in the world."

"I needed someone who I felt was honest…real. There is no one in the world that I thought would be as genuine with me as him...so, I had to go find him."

Blythe reached out for Cuddy's arm in an informal partial hug. "I'm glad you went and found my son," she said with the same honest affect.

"Me too," Cuddy answered. "I don't know where I'd be without him."

"I'm disappointed I missed your wedding…although I've assumed for a long time that if Greg got married, I wouldn't be there."

The obstetrician left Ann's room and invited Blythe and Cuddy to go back inside.

The three chatted about the baby until House and Wilson returned. When House walked in, he went directly over to Cuddy, placing his hand on her lower back and then, the two met eyes for only a few seconds, exchanging a look and a quick smile before turning their attention back to the group. House realized his mother was watching him, and he removed his hand and took a very small step back from Cuddy, but when he looked at his mother, he could see the knowing look.

That miniscule exchange between her son and his new bride told Blythe everything she needed to know. Her son was clearly in love with the woman he married, enough so that he briefly forgot to guard his affection in front of others. When she first heard about Greg going back to the woman he was with when his life spun out of control to a degree worlds worse than ever before, she was definitely concerned with the rationality of rekindling that relationship.

Standing in the hospital, witnessing the interaction that the couple thought went unnoticed by others, Blythe decided that not only did she approve of the relationship, but she was actually very happy about it.

"So," House said, breaking the calm silence in the room, "Who won the bet?"

"Hold your honorary nephew," Wilson said, carrying the baby over toward his friend, who was making a face that did nothing to mask his displeasure.

"Not a huge baby fan, Wilson."

"Oh come on, the least you can do is introduce yourself," Wilson insisted.

The baby was beginning to fuss until Wilson placed him in House's arm, and the baby stopped crying instantly. "See, you're a natural," Wilson complimented.

"So…who won the bet?" House asked again.

"Well you were _so_ close, House…Ann did go into labor, actually on the ride home from the shore…but…he wasn't born until after midnight…so…technically, Monday. You and Cuddy…were both wrong. I think that means you both have to pay up."

"She went into labor on the way home…I at least deserve credit for that, I was closer than anyone else. Come on!"

"No, you said the baby would be born Sunday. He was not."

"You're already a pain in the ass," House said to the child. He lifted the baby upright, supporting the head in one of his large hands, and turning Adam around to see his face. The infant had the typical greyish eyes that babies often have before their permanent color shows itself. He had a very full, disheveled and wispy pile of very dark brown hair, with Wilson shaped eyes, and a tiny dark pink pair of Ann-shaped lips. After performing the quick assessment, House said to Ann, "He's not nearly as ugly as I thought he'd be with Wilson for a father. You must have domineering genes."

He turned his attention down to the child, speaking only inches away. "Hello. You're currently useless to me. One day, I'll teach you things…things that can be used to make your father insane. You'll be my eyes and ears on the inside, and perhaps, from time to time, a valuable accomplice," House said, glancing over the baby to sneer at Wilson. "Well kid, I guess you aren't entirely horrible," House added.

The baby responded with a small shrill cry, and then, vomited all over House. He glowered at the snickering Wilson as he handed the baby over, grabbing tissues from the table next to Ann. Everyone was trying to mask their smirks and giggles. House looked at Cuddy and said, "I have held two children in the past ten years for non-medical purposes. Both of them have vomited on me the first time I held them. Is this still adorable?" he asked.

Cuddy grinned at the memory of her daughter, vomiting on House and said, "Yea…a little."

He gave her a brief smile before leaving to try to clean the rest of the rancid smelling vomit off of his shirt in the bathroom. When he left the bathroom he found his mother standing in the hall. "It's a good match for you," she said. "I think you should keep her around."

"Of course, in a few days, I'll put her in my dungeon, to keep her there with the others for when I need her," he jested.

"Son, you look really good. You seem healthy…almost content…"

"I'm fine. Really, Mom."

"I'm surprised that I like her…after what happened last time…"

"That wasn't entirely her fault. The whole situation was…" House trailed off. "We're good," he added, succinctly.

"I'm sure, son."

He stepped past her, trying to return to Ann's room, the conversation already uncomfortable for him.

Simpson entered the end of the hallway and started toward them. "House…House!" he hollered into the air, "Dr. House!" Simpson said, insistently, as he tried to catch up.

House turned suddenly, looking around as if he couldn't figure out who was talked to him, "Ah, Simpson, what can I solve for you today?"

"Hello, ma'am," Simpson said, smiling kindly at Blythe.

House was horrified by the exchange, "Mom, can you get Cuddy for me, please?"

After Blythe left, Simpson looked up at him, "That...is your mother? I always pictured someone with a cloven hoof and a pitchfork."

Cuddy walked into the hallway. "Hey, Ron," she said, crossing her arms in front of her. "We're just here visiting Wilson, this is purely social."

"I know," Simpson answered, "But Harris, over at Memorial, has a case coming in that he wants you guys to get on in a few days. He said he's sure you'll take it once you hear the specifics. Look, let's meet tomorrow, at Penn. Becker's office. We'll have the contracts there for you guys to look over so you can make a decision."

"We're still on our honeymoon," House said, whining.

"Right, like she'd…" Simpson stopped abruptly when he caught Cuddy's warning stare. "Congratulations, I didn't hear anything about it."

"She couldn't wait another day," House answered.

"Well, if it isn't too soon, we'd love to meet with you as soon as you can be available."

House and Cuddy looked at each other, and wordlessly made their decision, "We'll be there at ten, Ron." Cuddy responded, shaking his hand.

They walked into Ann's room together, and Wilson asked, "Are you guys staying in the area tonight?"

"We have to get home tonight," House answered.

"What about your mom?" Wilson asked.

"You can stay at my old place if you want, Mom, then you can stop in and see Wilson and the baby again tomorrow," House answered.

"She isn't here to see us, House, she's obviously here to see you. Don't you have room at your new place? Kate said there's a guest room."

House gave a full, fake smile to Wilson, "Sure, yea."

"I don't want to be a problem," Blythe said, "But I would like to see you again before I go back home."

"No problem," House replied.

After Cuddy and Blythe left the room, Wilson stopped House before he could go. "House," he pleaded, "She's your _mother_. No matter what, she gave you life…raised you…the least you can do is give her a place to stay for two days…talk to her…maybe have dinner. You're actually happy for once…she deserves to see you happy."

"I know," House said, quietly.


	72. Chapter 72

**A/N**-_Thanks to all who read and to the reviewers: CaptainK8, TheHouseWitch, IHeartHouseCuddy, LapizSilkwood, Way Worse Than Scottish, JLCH, lenasti16, Boo's House, southpaw2, freddy, Bakerstreet Blues, housebound, Alex, HuddyGirl, Suzieqlondon, Josam, Abby, ClareBear14, jkarr, dmarchl and Mon Fogel._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>When House, Cuddy and Blythe made it to the lobby of the hospital, Chase was standing there with a group of nearly thirty people, all watching them expectantly. "Is it true?" Chase asked.<p>

"I think so. We're meeting to discuss the contract tomorrow, if everything goes well, we might be working in a few days," Cuddy answered.

"Not that," Chase answered, "That's great, I mean, that sounds wonderful, but…the real question: Did the hospital's most infamous couple run off and tie the knot, or is Wilson just screwing with all of our heads?"

"Cuddy finally tied me down," House said as he and Cuddy nodded.

Chase stared at him, eyes squinted with suspicion. "I did," Cuddy answered while she scanned the crowd, seeing faces both familiar and new, all waiting to hear the truth.

Chase remained unconvinced, until Cuddy walked over to him and held out her hand, displaying the ring. He smiled at her, and said, awkwardly at first, "Congratulations, Doc…uh…Li…Cuddy?" finally settling, uncertainly, on the use of her last name.

"Cuddy's fine, Chase," she smiled, "and thanks."

He pointed toward House, "So you actually went through with it?"

House nodded.

"When?" Chase asked.

"Sunday," House answered. "I'm guessing there's a bit of wagering going on?"

"Biggest pool I've ever had."

"Who won?" Cuddy asked.

"Oh I did, of course," Chase answered. "Who else would have? I know House. I sort of figured, once you both made up your minds to see each other again, and actually admit to others that you were seeing each other, the rest was a formality. I actually emailed Thirteen, she's in on it from abroad."

"What was her bet?" House asked.

"Oh, she thought one of you would leave the other at the altar in about four more months. Now," Chase said, walking up to his old boss, "for your present…"

"You aren't going to hug me, are you?" House asked.

"No!" Chase said, as he handed him an envelope, "Thirty percent of my take. Congratulations!"

"Only thirty?" House asked. "Ingrate."

* * *

><p>House, Cuddy and Blythe left the hospital to go home, stopping off for dinner. Cuddy told Blythe about the wedding, the details of the flowers, and the beauty of that morning. Blythe listened with interest, trying to picture Cuddy's words in her head. Cuddy offered to share the pictures once they arrived home.<p>

They told Blythe a few stories about Rachel over dinner as well. Blythe enjoyed the discussion, picturing her son in a paternal way was certainly different, but she had imagined such scenarios before. He told her about Rachel's imaginary friend with a cane, and Cuddy told her about the picture Rachel kept of him.

"When Greg was a boy, he was so good with small children," Blythe said. "One of our moves…I don't even remember which one anymore, they all jumble together...anyway, we just arrived on base and began moving into our new home. John was busy running around, he was always so tense until we got everything settled and in order after a move. Next door to us were these twin girls, three or four years old. They were outside crying. Do you remember this, Greg? Those twins?"

He nodded his head, "They were five."

Cuddy could feel the tension rising in him, although he was outwardly very calm. He moved his hand below the table, and put it next to her leg, down flat against the bench of the booth. He acted as if he was just leaning on his hand, using it to prop himself up, but she loved that when he was tense, he was beginning to look for the comfort of her physical presence near him.

"Well," Blythe continued, "those little girls were so sad because they just moved, I don't even know why they were _that_ worked up!"

"Probably something to do with leaving their home," he said, tersely, until he saw the beginnings of a concerned expression on Blythe's face, and tried to lighten his tone, "They were crying over some friends, and a swing set they just got for their birthdays, and had to leave in a yard half a world away..."

"He has an amazing memory," Blythe complimented.

"For some things," House replied.

"Well, Greg walked over to their yard, and showed them these little card tricks. He was already so tall and lanky, more so as a kid before he filled out a bit, and he looked so funny playing with those little girls. How old were you, dear?"

"I dunno," he answered, looking around the restaurant, "Probably twelve or thirteen."

"You didn't play with them much after that…I guess you made friends your own age."

House opened his mouth to tell her that he didn't talk to them anymore because of his dad's not so gentle reminders about the appropriateness of his small friends. He could still hear his dad's voice in his head: "The only boys that play with little girls are overgrown sissies, and you aren't a sissy, are you, boy?"

House was grateful that the sound of Cuddy's ringing phone gave him pause enough to decide not to say anything else about the memory. "It's Mom," Cuddy said, placing her fingers against her forehead, "I'll have to call her when we get back home."

"Probably should, before she calls out the National Guard," he said with a quick smirk.

After dinner, they drove down to Kate's, finding a familiar car in the driveway and sighing aloud simultaneously. "You've got to be kidding me," Cuddy muttered. She turned around in her seat and spoke to her mother-in-law with the utmost earnestness, "No matter what happens, don't take anything this woman says seriously. I am just going to apologize in advance."

They walked through the front door of their home to find Arlene Cuddy sitting on the sofa with Kate. Kate's eyes were wide and her face gnarled with frustration. She mouthed, "Help!"

"Oh good," Arlene said, "So nice of the two of you to show up."

"Hi, Mom," Cuddy said, tiredly. She noticed her mom eying Blythe. "Oh," Cuddy added, "This is House's mom, Blythe. Blythe, this is my mother, Arlene."

Arlene looked the other woman over quickly before turning her attention back to Cuddy. "Why do you keep running off like this? You are far too old to be playing these sorts of games…why is he wearing a ring?" she asked, suddenly distracted by the shiny object on House's finger.

"Mom," Cuddy began, "we decided just to…go get married on our own. It was just a small ceremony, so that…"

"Oh I see," Arlene interrupted, "I've been waiting for you to finally settle down, and you decide it's best to elope? What about family…what about tradition? How are we all supposed to celebrate now?"

"We'll have a reception, or dinner, or...something, so that everyone who didn't get to come can celebrate," Cuddy said.

"Well of course. My obviously emotionally stunted daughter decided to go running off, last minute…"

"Well, at least now I know why you both decided to elope," Blythe interrupted.

"Excuse me?" Arlene said with irritation.

"Let's just all relax," Kate chimed in.

Arlene shot her an angry look, "I think it's time for you to move on, it's clear my daughter isn't interested in you," she said to Kate, who put up a hand in frustration before leaving the room, clearly exhausted after the time she spent with the woman already.

Blythe looked at Cuddy for an explanation, "Kate's a friend…House has lived with her _as a roommate_."

Blythe nodded her head, suddenly in the midst of more drama than she had seen in years.

"Now you are _married_, and you are still calling him House?" Arlene asked her daughter. "What will he call you now, House Two…Lady House?"

"I have plenty of time to decide if I'm changing my name, it really isn't that important," Cuddy answered.

"Not that important?" Arlene asked, "Do you really think that he doesn't mind that his own wife isn't willing to take his name, that any man could just come along and assume she's still available?"

"Actually _he _doesn't mind. I'm pretty sure that her not changing her name doesn't mean she's still available," House defended.

"It's a wonder you even bothered to get married," Arlene continued.

"Look," House said, on the verge of anger at this point, "She's been 'Cuddy' so long it's part of her identity. I didn't ask you to stop being a nagging mother because we got married, did I? Some things should change…and some things shouldn't. I'm actually secure enough to believe she meant what she said when we got married. That…and next week I'm getting her branded with a giant 'H' on her right ass cheek."

Arlene huffed, "Always joking, aren't you? Well, far be it from me to get involved in my daughter's private life."

She was met by three sets of blankly staring eyes.

"You'll have to excuse my daughter," Arlene said to Blythe, "she has a flair for the dramatic."

Blythe cleared her throat, "I'm overjoyed that the two of them did this. It was time for them to find what they want, and grab onto it. I wish I would have had the courage to do that in my life. You are very lucky to have a daughter as wonderful as Lisa…and your daughter is very lucky to have a husband as amazing as my son."

Arlene gave Blythe a suspicious look out of the corner of her eye before turning back to Cuddy. "You're pregnant, aren't you?"

"Yes," House said, wryly, "because, not one, but two, doctors are often bewildered by the complexities of birth control."

"Well, I would love to have one, at some point…" Blythe added.

"At least we can agree on the grandchildren," Arlene said, victoriously, "I mean, Lisa, how much longer are you going to hide behind Rachel's ghost?"

The entire room went silent. Completely. Utterly. Silent. Cuddy lifted a hand, with a finger pointed to emphasize her words, and tears began to slowly fill at the rims of her eyes, extending upwards. "Don't…you…" Cuddy's lip faintly quivered for a second, she dropped her hand to her side, and shook her head, turning calmly, and leaving the room.

Cuddy could hear the sounds of House, vehemently reproving Arlene for her insensitivity. Kate followed Cuddy into the bedroom. Cuddy was pacing angrily as Kate leaned against one wall, waiting for her friend to speak. Cuddy walked over to Kate, ready to scream about why she was so furious, and collapsed into tears on Kate's shoulder.

"Seriously, Lisa…I'll kill her for you…" Kate finally said, with a chuckle_._

Cuddy laughed through her tears, "Even after I dumped you for House?" she joked.

"Even after that!" Kate replied. "I'll never understand what you saw in me…"

Cuddy laughed some more, both because the joke was funny, and as a release from so much building anger. "I'm so sorry she said that."

"You don't have to apologize because your mother thinks that I'm a bad choice for her straight daughter…who I never actually dated…"

They could still hear House yelling from the living room in a virtually uninterrupted stream of complaint. "Want me to go try and calm him down?" Kate asked.

"No…we'll let him go for a bit," Cuddy said, wiping the tears from her face.

"She's fucking nuts, Lisa. Seriously."

"Maybe it's true…maybe I'm using what happened to Rachel…"

Kate silenced her, "Seriously, close your mouth, and stop talking. You went through something horrible, you _should_ be impacted by that. You decided to rekindle a long gone relationship with a man that you've had…we'll say 'ups and downs' with…and ended up marrying him…that's a lot of change for a person. You left your job, you are moving and you are starting down a new career path. To top it all off…you just visited a friend and his brand new baby."

"I'm happy I just got married! And I'm happy about work. And I'm happy for Wilson…"

"I know…but it's a lot to deal with… You don't have to make any decisions now. You guys have some time. Just let things settle down for a moment. If you both want kids in six months…or a year…do it then!"

"I don't know what I want to do."

"Lisa…please…listen to me. You do not have to decide right now. Having a spouse means having someone to make these decisions with. Sure, you have to consider their feelings, but you also have the benefit of their input."

"Oh no…" Cuddy said, "why is it so quiet out there…"

Cuddy was right, the place was so quiet that the air was completely still. A few moments later, she heard the familiar sound of a step and cane-step down the hall toward her room.

The door opened and House walked through. His neck was bright red, and he looked ruffled. "I'm gonna fucking kill her," he said calmly, but with meaningful inflection.

"You OK?" he asked, trying to sound relaxed, but his throat was still tight with rage.

Kate stood up, "I'm gonna go out and start bleaching the blood stains out of the furniture," she joked.

"Thanks," House said. After she left, Cuddy flopped on the bed, stretched out, legs over the side. He sat down next to her. "You OK…like…really OK?" he asked.

"Yea, I'm fine. I shouldn't let her get to me."

"Don't do that…don't allow her to act like an asshole and then take the blame for her actions because they hurt you."

"I'm so glad we had our own, private wedding…without all of..._that_."

"Me too," he said, his voice soft, as he dropped down next to her and pulled her to his chest.

"I wish I wouldn't have let her see that…"

"Cuddy, you handled seeing Wilson today, with…unbelievable grace. Honestly, you took that so well. It meant a lot to them that you were there…but I'm sure it was hard for you."

"I wanted to be there."

"I know that…"

"…But you're right. It was…really hard." He squeezed her closer. "I'm so sorry for my mother," she said.

"I'm sorry you grew up with that, Cuddy. I'm telling you, it's amazing that you turned out so well…" She managed a chuckle and he continued, "I'm serious…no child should be raised by that."

An actual knock came on the door as they heard Arlene say the words, "Knock, knock…" and slowly turn the knob.

Cuddy scooted off of House and sat on the edge of the bed. "Can you excuse us, please?" Arlene asked him.

"No, I don't think so," House answered, belligerently, "I'm not leaving here so you can…"

"Fine," Arlene interrupted. "Perhaps my choice of words wasn't the best…"

"Do ya think?" Cuddy bitterly asked.

"Look, Greg's mother just told me that you were visiting with your whiny friend and his new baby earlier."

"She was your granddaughter! You just want to forget about her…you want me to forget about her?" Cuddy asked, angrily.

"No!" Arlene said, "That's not what I want at all. Do you remember when Jack died? The next day your sister was begging for a replacement…not you. We had that lumbering old dog since before you were born. You…said you didn't want a dog anymore, because it made you too sad when he died."

Her voice turned softer than Cuddy could remember hearing in her adult life, and Arlene continued, "I know I said things the wrong way…I love Rachel, and I still miss her. I don't want you to miss out on life…I know my daughter. After the dog died, it hurt too much, so you avoided having a dog. After a relationship hurt you, you avoided relationships. I don't want the same thing happening here. If you want children…maybe you shouldn't avoid them because you're afraid."

Cuddy's breathing slowed and a look of understanding crossed her face, "OK…" Cuddy whispered.

Arlene's voice became loud again, "I will, however, always be hurt that you didn't invite your own mother to your wedding…but…I'll get over it. I'm glad you two are stuck with each other." She smiled at her daughter.

* * *

><p>Arlene left shortly after their discussion. "I guess she meant well…in her own way," Cuddy said to House as she watched her mother's car pull away.<p>

"I think you're being a little too understanding," House said.

Blythe and Kate were sitting at the kitchen table, chatting. House and Cuddy walked out to the kitchen and Blythe said, "Lisa, it was hard for me at first, but, I've grown to accept your former life as a lesbian."

Cuddy bent her head and partially covered her face with her hand while Blythe laughed. She stood up from the table and hugged Cuddy, "Your mother…loves you…" Blythe said seriously, "But, I think she has a very strange way of showing it…" she added, chuckling a bit.

"I'm going to bed," Blythe added, as she stopped in front of her son, taking him warmly by the forearm, "I like Lisa, you chose your bride very well."

"You're just saying that because her mom makes you look like a saint," he teased.

"That definitely didn't hurt!" she joked back as she walked back to the guest room.

Cuddy went to sleep thinking of Rachel, and her mother's words, and appreciating the fact that in the morning, she'd be back in the professional world, where life seemed so much less complicated.


	73. Chapter 73

**A/N**-_why hellooooo. Thank you so much to all readers and the reviewers since the last chapter: __JLCH, housebound, lenasti16, LapizSilkwood, TheHouseWitch, Anonymous, Truth, IHeartHouseCuddy, BakerstreetBlues, dmarchl, ClareBear14, CaptainK8, Alex, Suzieqlondon, KiwiClare, jkv97, IWuvHouse, Abby, HuddyGirl, Mon Fogel and LoveMyHouse._

**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD_

* * *

><p>When the sun rose, Cuddy was already up, sitting on a computer in the living room. She was busily working, and Kate stumbled out of her room with a pile of papers, asking, "You print something?"<p>

"I was wondering where the printer was," Cuddy said, never looking up from the computer.

"It's about four feet from my bed."

Cuddy reached out to the side and pulled the papers from Kate's hand, still unwilling to break her concentration on the screen. "Thanks."

When House emerged from the bedroom minutes later, he went to the kitchen to join Kate at the table while the two of them communicated in series of grunts and sighs that seemed all that they could muster at that hour.

Cuddy walked out to the kitchen, reading printouts while pouring coffee and returning to the living room. House blinked away his sleep, "What's she doing?"

Kate shrugged.

House walked out to peer over Cuddy's shoulder. She reached back, pulled him down to eye level by the tee shirt so she could swiftly kiss his cheek, and continued working. "Everything OK?" he asked.

"Oh yea…insurances…malpractice, health…a little research…"

He nodded. "For the meeting?"

"Yea. I want to make sure we are ready."

"Cool…" he said, as he half stumbled back to get a shower and prepare for the day.

By the time he was ready, Cuddy was standing in the kitchen, dressed for the day and staring out the patio door. She wasn't fidgeting, or really moving at all, she seemed calm and thoughtful, the frantic preparations, obviously finished.

* * *

><p>Cuddy and House expected that there would be at least another round of discussion and negotiation before they'd come to a final agreement. Arriving at Penn early, they made their way to Becker's office to meet with the various administrators. Before they walked in, Simpson stopped them.<p>

"Memorial Hospital had to back out. Funding issues," Simpson said.

"Funding issues?" Cuddy asked, "That seems unlikely, Memorial is one of the best…"

"Listen," Simpson interrupted, "Before you go digging around, I'll tell you. Memorial's Board…they didn't feel House was worth the risk. If things go well here, they'll consider down the line…maybe even try to bring you in on a case-by-case basis."

Cuddy could feel House's enthusiasm waver slightly. "Down the line, we'll be the ones '_considering_' working with them. They'll regret it when they see your finance reports," Cuddy said, confidently, before walking into Becker's office.

The notoriously under-informed Noelle Becker from Penn stood from behind her desk and joined everyone at the conference table. Standing at the far end of the table was Harrison Medford, the man who was providing much of the funding to subsidize House and Cuddy's new team. Medford was a tiny, studious looking man, with an appearance so neat and tidy that he almost looked artificial. He had a kindly, yet understated smile, and shook both Cuddy and House's hands, but it was clear that he would reach for the sanitizer at the earliest convenient moment.

"It will be a pleasure to ensure that you are back in medicine," Medford said. The man's voice was clear, and surprisingly resonant for a man of his stature. "Both of you are well known for being the best in your areas of expertise."

"I've had experience with a number of very generous benefactors in the past," Cuddy began, "I suppose I'd like to know how much control you'd like to have over of our day to day activities."

"Control?" he asked.

"How much of my time am I going to have to spend trying to explain to you the fundamentals of doctoring each day? Are you going to comment on my wardrobe and my occasionally less than savory metaphors?" House asked.

"Dr. House, I don't care what you wear, or what you choose to say...at least when you are with your team. I'm assuming you have selected people that are used to your methods. I ask that you make an attempt not to completely horrify patients, and if you can't do that in any given moment, you send Dr. Cuddy or one of your other associates to deal directly with them."

House nodded, looking over at Cuddy with a look of acceptance.

Medford continued, "I'm not a doctor, and I am not a micromanager. I don't know what it takes to do whatever you do. I care about solving these cases. I ask that you document anything you may discover, so people can learn from it in the future. If you care to publish it, great, do so, if not, make sure someone, somewhere can get the information out to other doctors."

"Strings?" House said, "There's always strings attached."

"Yes, of course," Medford said. "If a member of my family needs you, I expect you to take the case. I'm not talking about colds or infections…but, if they go undiagnosed by other doctors…"

House and Cuddy both nodded.

"Now, I have things to do, and I feel confident that these hospital representatives can help you hammer out your details." He placed business cards down on the table for both House and Cuddy. "If you need something, let me know."

The administrators showed House and Cuddy the contract, which granted most of their important requests. "Each of our hospitals will provide one consulting staff member, and will give you one full-time staff member. James Wilson and Kate Vega will remain in their respective departments, but will be available for consultations on an as-needed basis. From what we understand, you want Celia Norman and Robert Chase full time?"

"May I ask," Simpson said, "why you need a full-time valet driver?"

"Going to get a smart car to drive inside the hospitals…it's good for my leg. I know it will fit in the halls, we'll have to test the elevators," House said, his expression serious.

Becker stuttered a few times, until Cuddy ended her confusion. "He's joking. We need Celia for our team…we do things a bit unconventionally."

"Each hospital will provide office space…" Becker continued, ignoring the joke.

House tried to interrupt when Simpson interrupted him, "House, Wilson already agreed to give you your office back…"

Simpson's statement was met by a wide grin from House. When they reached the end of the contract, House looked at Cuddy and said, "Well Dr. Cuddy, should we have a private meeting or does this contract meet all of your needs…well…all of your needs that aren't met by me…which, if you think about it, means they have to provide very little…"

Cuddy answered, "Let's take a few minutes over lunch to discuss this, and we'll meet back up with you guys in this office at 1…"

When they walked out into the hallway he asked, "Afternoon delight?"

"We should talk to Celia," Cuddy answered.

"She's a bit old for my taste…but…"

"About the job…"

"Less interesting discussion, but fine," he said, smiling.

They could each see the excitement in the other one at the prospect of this new job. "Are we gonna take it?" he asked.

She stopped him the hallway and pulled him into a family waiting room. "House, we have to be equals here. We make all of the business decisions together. You have questions about procedures, you get permission from Simpson, or Becker…not from me. We're members of the same team."

"Sometimes someone will have to have the final say," he said.

"Yes…the local administrator. If we disagree, we go to them. Let them work it out. They're the ones signing off on everything. But…in general, we'll have you lead the diagnostic portions, and I'll lead the patient contact and take care of the business end of things. We'll try to cooperate…argue…come to decisions."

He nodded, "Yea."

"You already have me…and I already have you. We aren't doing anything to impress each other, or convince each other we've changed. When we're working…we do what we think is right…not what we think the other one wants us to do."

"You understand what that means, right?" he asked.

"I do," she answered. "We did really well with that case in Princeton. We respect each other..."

"I want you to tell me you won't divorce me over anything work related."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because I'm going to be more cautious in what I do if I'm thinking you'll end it."

"I won't end it. But… Look, I'll take one of the other jobs…you take this one," she said, emphatically. "Bring Wilson on to do patient contact."

She turned to leave the waiting room and started walking, stopping for a moment to figure out why he wasn't following.

"You don't want the job?" he asked.

"I do, but this is the perfect opportunity for you, and I think you need this. I'll find something else."

He looked her over for signs that she was frustrated, or angry, and there were none. She was still talking just as happily as she was before the discussion. She took his arm, her hand tucked around it, as she walked. "You should go talk to Celia," she said, before going on to different topics. "You OK?" she asked, when he was silent for a bit too long.

"Yea," he said, softly.

She continued talking, making her way to the lobby. He stopped her suddenly, "I'm a little freaked out…that you'd just…not take the job."

"Well it isn't that I don't want to work with you, don't be offended."

"I'm not offended, I'm confused."

"You…need this more than I do…and…you are actually the diagnostician."

He smiled. "That is remarkably generous. You'd really do that…"

"Were you testing me?" she asked, testily.

"Maybe a wee-ish little bit."

"Why don't you take on Wilson at first, and you can see how it goes?"

"No!" he said, "I want to work with you and see Wilson on the side. If I don't have you by my side to ogle and sexually harass on a daily basis, I'll have to find someone else…and other people might actually press charges."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You shouldn't be cautious…that's not who you are."

"I'm…going to be a _little_ cautious…whether you're there or not. I feel like living _and_ not going to jail…most of the years I was working, I didn't care about either of those things. So...like it or not, I'm less inclined to be a human guinea pig or kill people unless I really, really have to."

"If this gets in the way of us…I'm going to step down," she said.

"Trust me, they want both of us. They know I won't listen to anyone else. We both make this work...or it doesn't work at all."

When they made it to the lobby, they saw Celia talking to her son. They had no idea what was being said, but the snobby, dismissive expression on her son's face was enough. "Mama!" House shouted across the lobby, making her jump a bit in her spot.

She turned around, "It's the lovebirds."

"You need a new job," House said, forcefully.

"I do?" Celia asked.

"Yes, one that pays twice as much as this crappy job."

"I told you before I'm not becoming a stripper, no matter how much you beg," she teased.

"I think you should stop speaking to my mother, she doesn't need to be bothered by you," Celia's son said, condescendingly.

"You're just jealous because I've always been her favorite," House sneered, before turning his attention back to Celia.

"Now…twice the pay. Do some books, pay some bills, answer some phones. Still technically the employee of the hospital, so you won't lose your retirement, or benefits, but, working for the aforementioned lovebirds. Thoughts? Questions? Good, you're hired!"

"Are you serious?" Celia asked, with surprise.

"Yea, definitely," Cuddy answered. "The only catch is, we have two locations to cover, sometimes we'll be here…sometimes in Princeton…"

Celia waved one of her valet's inside, and handed him her headset, and some keys. "Good luck, Joe," she said, grabbing her purse from behind the counter before she turned to walk with her new supervisors.

"Mom," her son said, "This guys a lunatic…"

"Oh, I know," she answered, "I like 'em a little nutty."

"You're going to leave a good job…to work for him?"

"Not all that great a job if it embarrasses the hell outta you…is it?" she asked. "Now, I'll see you Sunday for dinner."

She proudly joined House and Cuddy. "When do I start?"

"Today," Cuddy said.

"You can start by taking the rest of the day off…we'll call you as soon as we figure out where our offices are," House told her.

* * *

><p>After a brief meeting with Becker and Simpson, the couple signed the necessary paperwork and went to see their offices. House walked in first, looking around the room with a sense of satisfaction. The office was bright, with new, heavy desks, and comfortable work chairs. There was also a small consultation area off of the main room that he assumed was for meeting with patients and families. Fresh coats of pale blue paint covered the walls in the places where there weren't windows, but the outside wall was almost entirely glass.<p>

Becker was standing in the doorway as they looked around, "Is there anything you need?"

"House will need a white board, I'll need some office supplies, but I'll look through the catalogue and let you know exactly what we want."

"Great," Becker said, before casting her eyes to the side. "Congratulations," she said, tentatively, "on your wedding…I heard the two of you got married."

"Yea, thanks," Cuddy answered.

"I'm really sorry about last time, I…"

"It's fine," Cuddy said, professionally, "Let's just…move past it, it's over."

"OK," Becker answered. "We'll give you a few days to get everything set up, here, and at Princeton. We'll gather up some possible cases and see which ones you're interested in."

Becker left the office and House didn't hear Cuddy push the door shut and engage the lock. "This place is unbelievable," he said, once he knew they were alone. "Quite a step up from the basement!"

"It is," she said, as she walked over to him.

He sat down in his desk chair and she sat down on his lap, her legs draped over the side of the chair. She gently placed two small kisses against his lips, and glanced her tongue along his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth. She heard him sigh with surprise and felt him sliding his hands around her, one hand holding her to him, the other along the flat stretch of her lower abdomen. He was surprised every time she still kissed him like that, kissed him like he was new to her, reminiscent of the days when making out was the pinnacle of dating success.

She slipped a hand under his shirt, her touch, soft and warm, but when he tried to do the same, she halted his hand. She was still kissing him, with that faint whimper that always drew him in to her. She pressed his hand flat against her, over her shirt, but he tried to walk his fingers back to the space between the buttons. When he finally managed to get two fingers through an open gap in her shirt, she stopped him again.

"You started it," he said, quickly, before she started kissing him again.

He pulled her tighter against him, hoping to entice her to christen their new office immediately once she noticed the effect she could have on him.

"I can't...I was just...testing the lock," she whispered.

"You always say that you can't…and you almost always can…"

"We are new here…we have to behave."

"No we don't…we really don't. You must have forgotten that the best part about work is the work sex."

She hopped of his lap, "I was teasing…building tension…setting the mood for later. I want you to want me."

"When don't I want you?"

"Don't you remember how exciting it is…the wanting…the fantasizing? I mean…I want you to want me, and not have me for a little while."

"I should really get credit for all of the years I spent wanting you…that should count for something. In fact, I wanted you so long…you should pretty much be having sex with me before I realize I want it…every time, for the rest of our lives."

"Before you realize you want it? You always want it."

"Which is what I said earlier. Which proves the point that I already want you, which proves the point that there is no need to build tension and tease…which…proves that you should already be having sex with me."

House's phone rang, the display announcing that the call was from Wilson. House snarled, "I really hate it when people interrupt me when I'm winning an argument."

"What?" House said into his phone, "We need a code word so Cuddy doesn't know it's my mistress calling."

House spoke to Wilson for a few moments. When he hung up, he said into the air, "Cuddy's strutting untouchably in front of me, Wilson's already meddling…god, it's good to be back."


	74. Chapter 74

**A/N**-_Thank you to all of the regular and new readers, and to the reviewers who continue to overjoy me with thoughts, theories and feedback: JLCH, TheHouseWitch, lenasti16, Bakerstreet Blues, IHeartHouseCuddy, CaptainK8, dmarchl, Boo's House, SissiCuddles, KiwiClare, KatieF-House, Way Worse Than Scottish, Josam, Little Greg, iridescentZEN, housebound, LapizSilkwood, ClareBear14, Abby, HuddyGirl, Mon Fogel, Alex, and LoveMyHouse.  
><em>

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter includes adult content, marked. _

_I am still a complete moron in the world of medicine. The internet is helpful, but I wouldn't trust me to start that IV for you._

* * *

><p>Becker brought Cuddy and House a stack of possible case files just as Wilson was arriving, and Kate brought Blythe in to see the new hospital. Both House and Cuddy were filled with feelings of success and accomplishment as they perused the files before them in their new office. Wilson chatted with Blythe and Kate, as House and Cuddy sat on either side of the desk they agreed would be his, looking over the files.<p>

"This one's interesting!" Cuddy said, nodding toward the file she had in her hands.

He looked up at her over his reading glasses. "Sarcoidosis. Solved."

"No…no…breath sounds are clear," Cuddy added.

"Trust me. It's Sarcoidosis. Write a note on it before you give it back to Becker. The patient's attending can run tests and confirm it."

"Now this one…" Cuddy began.

"It's fibromyalgia…I don't even know why it's in there. Must be someone's sister or cousin or something. Write a note on that one too…have Becker tell the attending…and while you're at it, send her something so she knows we want cases that are actually not solvable within ten seconds. The doctor that didn't figure out this one should be fired."

House picked up a file and looked through it quickly and tossed it in his 'no' pile.

"This one…" Cuddy began.

"Hepatitis," House bluntly interrupted. "Write a note…"

"It's not Hep, the blood work's right here! And how about _you_ write the notes," she answered in a snippy tone.

He answered, condescendingly, "You're sitting there…and you're the…"

"House," she interrupted, "If you _even_ say that I should write the notes because I'm the woman…" she began, her frustration evident in her voice.

"No…I was saying that you are the one who found it interesting enough to bring up. If _I_ was the one who thought it was interesting enough to bring up, _I'd_ write the note when I solved it," he snapped back, returning his gaze to his own file.

"It's not Hep!" she said, adamantly.

He stood up so that he could walk around, but she stood up too, unhappy with his incredible height advantage over her while she was seated.

"It is. Tell them to run the blood work again," he said, his own irritation quite obvious at that point.

"They ran it three times!"

"Then it's pancreatitis…"

"With that much bilirubin?"

"The pancreatitis caused the blockage in the bile duct, which…"

"CT and ultrasound of the pancreas show no inflammation…no abnormal growths. The problem isn't the pancreas, it's the liver. Are you going to summarily dismiss every single case that I think might be interesting because you didn't notice it was interesting first?"

"No, I'm going to summarily dismiss every case that doesn't need me to figure it out."

"This case...is not solved," she answered.

"Then the guy's an alcoholic!"

"He is NOT an alcoholic!"

"I'm so relieved _you_ have patient contact, since it's clear you'll take great patient histories…you're going to believe every single thing that every moron tells you is true? You are assuming the guy told the truth without even talking to him!" he screamed. "It's cirrhosis or they did the blood work wrong and it's hepatitis."

"House, listen to me…look over all of the blood work and…"

"So much for us being equals…all that talk about you not being the boss, Cuddy, and here you are, shoving this case down my throat…I'm supposed to be responsible for the diagnostic portion," he said, loudly and he raised his hand to point at her in emphasis.

The argument stopped abruptly, and House and Cuddy looked over at their audience. Wilson was eating some sort of Mexican dish out of a white Styrofoam container, smiling and watching the familiar interaction with the same interest he would have while watching a chess game or a tennis match. Kate looked a bit confused, she had heard House yell at her, and many others, on numerous occasions, but she seldom witnessed any arguments between the couple, and she had never heard such spirited discussion of a medical case in her history as a doctor. Those reactions weren't really startling, or odd, but Blythe's stopped House cold.

He could barely see her out of the corner of his eye, but her reaction was one that he had seen so many times growing up, and he stopped yelling immediately. The moment he raised his hand, she flinched…noticeably. Her face was blank, almost entirely without emotion, but she couldn't hide the automatic, flinch of self-protection that the scene inspired.

Wilson was still half chewing, and said to the two women standing near him, "They just did half of the DDX in like…two minutes. We know Cuddy doesn't think it's alcohol…House does, so they'll search the home...see what they can find. Doesn't sound like pancreatitis or pancreatic cancer, because of the CT…blood work overall looks good and points to something other than pancreatic issues or hepatitis…"

Kate walked over to House and Cuddy, "What about hemochromatosis?"

House sat down slowly, still half watching his mother while Cuddy sat down in her chair. "Hemochromatosis is a real disease…I thought you specialized in phobias…"

Kate shrugged, "I _am_ actually a doctor…"

"We'll check for it," he said, as he looked around for paper. "We have to get Celia in here."

Kate grabbed a piece of paper and wrote it down, after the obviously sensitive topic of note taking that preceded the rest of the argument.

"Do a biopsy for cirrhosis…run blood work again for Hep…?" Cuddy suggested, "CEA's elevated."

"So…maybe cancer," House nodded. "Do the blood work…" he said, looking around the room for someone to delegate to. "Umm…Wilson?"

"I don't have my badge here yet. I can't do anything here until HR Clears me. Besides, I'm going to go home and hang out with my kid…sorry, House," Wilson answered, tossing his empty container into the trash.

"Kate…my darling little minion," House said.

"I'm on leave until next week…I can't draw blood or even talk to the patient until leave's up," Kate answered.

"I'll go," Cuddy said, "it's been a long time…it'll be fun."

She stood up and left the room. Wilson left with Cuddy, and Kate went to check for mail in her office. House sat back in the chair, twiddling his pen while his mother sat down and starting looking at her cell phone.

"Texting?" he asked.

"I _do_ know how."

He smirked.

She started discussing her day of sightseeing with Kate, and it seemed to him, saying anything just to keep talking.

"Just relax. I've never hit her. I would never hit her," he said, looking out the window still playing with a pen.

"I would never suggest that," she said defensively.

"You jumped."

"You were in jail for…"

"Hurting people and damaging property are drastically different things," he interrupted, before she said the phrase that always made him shiver with discontent.

"I wouldn't think you would hurt her…I've always wondered what happened exactly, because I couldn't imagine you…doing anything like..."

"Cuddy and I fight. It's what we do. Sometimes I forget that's part of what makes us great. Wilson was right…we did half the DDX like that…arguing…challenging each other…someone's life will probably be saved because she wouldn't let it go and neither would I."

"I just reacted like that because…"

"I know," he interrupted. "Trust me…if I ever did anything like that to Cuddy, she'd mutilate me in ways I'd rather not fathom."

"Gregory, I doubt that she would…" she stopped when he finally turned and met her gaze directly, showing her that he believed in the truth of his own words. "OK, I'm sure you know her much better than I do."

"Consider this…" he said, "she was raised by Arlene… Cuddy may understand boundaries better than her mother…but that was the face of nurturing that little Cuddy saw every night before bed. She can hold her own."

"Clearly."

* * *

><p>Kate took Blythe for dinner, since Cuddy was still running tests, and House wasn't about to leave Cuddy there, working, while he went to eat.<p>

Cuddy ran the blood work, and ordered tests, meeting many of the staff on the floor, all of whom seemed intrigued by the new department and its members. Most of the results wouldn't be back until morning, so they left for the day. The ride back was mostly silent, although more because they were thinking of the case than because they were angry with each other, however, the air was still filled with tension from their arguing.

They walked into the living room and House sent a text to Kate to find out where she was, and talk her into bringing home dinner for them.

"You hungry?" House asked Cuddy.

"Not really," she shrugged, leaning her elbows down on the counter.

"Good," he muttered as he wrapped an arm around her waist and before turning her around.

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

He looked at her intimidatingly, and she half smirked back defiantly at him, before they crashed into a kiss, a tension filled, angry meeting of physical one-upmanship. She was already clawing at his clothing, and he yanked her shirt partway off of her before he half-carried, half-dragged, her to their bedroom. When they got there, she managed to get the rest of his shirt off before he was tugging the skirt off of her, jerking the clothing away from her body, tugging off her bra, and ripping her panties from her without even the slightest hesitation or admonition from her.

She kissed him, biting down hard on his lip and freeing him of his clothes just as roughly. He pushed her toward the dresser and he leaned back on it, half sitting, and pulling her up on him, waiting while she wrapped her legs around his waist, and then lifting her high enough to penetrate her while he leaned back against the furniture. He palmed her ass in his hands to help her move, while her fingers dug into his shoulders and neck, holding on to their unexpected passionate moment. Neither made any attempt at foreplay, and neither seemed to need or desire it. There were no sweet words spoken, or really any words at all.

It always made him insane with desire when she would let loose and enjoy the raw passion of sex. With him, she could always completely surrender, allow her body to seek the pleasure she desired without fear of judgment or ridicule. If anything she knew he enjoyed it when she was like this. He nipped at her collar bone and neck whenever they were near enough, but when he knew she was close to orgasm, he only really wanted to watch her. When she was fully lost in an act of passion, her lip would snarl, her neck snapping backwards and she'd jerk her pelvis and twist against him, the filters she employed with everyone else completely stripped away.

When her patience was exhausted and she surrendered to bliss, he watched her, watched the curve of her neck, the way her muscles all over her body tightened, and her eyes tightly squinted shut. When the sight of her became too much, and he thought he might lose his battle, he looked down to his shoulders, and watched her fingers gripping into his flesh, greedily taking without apology, her knuckles locked in place and the skin tightly stretched across the narrow bones along her actively engaged hands. Her body and breath slowly relaxed, and he watched her pulse gradually slow along her neck. She leaned toward him, resting her forehead against his chest.

He passively enjoyed her internal pulses that he noticed suddenly became more focused and purposeful. Even in her recovery, she was enhancing his pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his neck, but the strength in the muscles of her arms, legs, and hands was depleted. He pushed her toward him so she wouldn't fall, and greedily took her as his. His hands and arms moved her body with the intense motions of his hips and pelvis, shifting her closer and further to suit his own need, understanding it was his time to take what he wanted.

As attractive as he found her when she took what she wanted unapologetically, she found his need and desire equally enticing. He had a combination of strength and power that was undeniably appealing. When she knew he was close and she felt his body growing more rigid with tension and anticipation, his desire for her awakened her need all over again. Something about the combination of his deep emotional connection to her, which had only during these last few months become uninhibited and freely displayed, combined with the basic, feral, physical attraction that he always brazenly had for her, was possibly the most powerful aphrodisiac that she had ever found.

He held onto her body with every bit as much determination. His breath labored, sweat beading, body taut and mind entirely disengaged, the moment his orgasm began she was set off, a match too close to a powder keg, and nothing could have prevented the onslaught of overwhelming sensation.

He held her close to him, so she wouldn't fall to the ground. His body was momentarily relieved of its need, his mind clear and calm.

"*"

* * *

><p>Once thought reentered his mind, he wondered what her reaction was going to be. Was she still angry from their earlier fight, would she slip off to bed early, leaving him to wonder if he was allowed to curl into bed next to her?<p>

She untangled her ankles from behind him and lowered herself to the ground. Walking casually over to the closet, she grabbed a shirt of his that she often stole from him to wear while relaxing, and turned back to him, to find him still leaning against the dresser, naked and tired, just watching her and waiting. She walked over to him and for a moment, he thought she was definitely still angry. She ran her fingers through his hair and stood on her tip toes to kiss him, "You look like you've been worked over," she said with a sultry giggle.

When he heard her giggle, his face found its smirk, although a tired one. "Because I have. Some sexy bitch just used me up."

She smiled. "So you aren't mad?" he asked.

"God, no. I love working with you. I didn't exactly expect to fight our first day, or in front of so many witnesses…but Wilson was right…we got half the DDX done right there. That whole thing was…remarkably us. I told you, we'll compromise…argue…figure stuff out. Did you really think we could work together without arguing?"

"Not really. I guess I sort of figured you'd…hold a grudge…"

"And I thought you'd sulk."

"Writhing naked on me is the cure for sulking in 99% of all cases where sulking presents."

"Are you trying to turn me on again?"

"I'm actually going to need a minute," he said with a chuckle.

She pulled on comfy pants with her shirt and he replaced the clothes he wore earlier, since he assumed his mother would be arriving home with Kate shortly.


	75. Chapter 75

**A/N**-_Thanks to JLCH, TheHouseWitch, lenasti16, IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, jkv97, Suzieqlondon, SissiCuddles, iridescentZEN, housebound, CaptainK8, ClareBear14, Josam, Mon Fogel, KiwiClare, LoveMyHouse, dmarchl, Abby, Alex and HuddyGirl for your reviews and to all of the readers who keep reading...so this keeps going.  
><em>

**Disclaimer_-_**_Don't own the characters of House MD_

* * *

><p>They heard the door open and Kate and Blythe walked in with bags of food. Kate's demeanor seemed strange from the moment she walked in to the room. House watched her carefully and could tell something was not right. She was saying the normal things in the normal ways, and he wasn't sure if it was her posture, or the way she tried to make sure she made eye contact, but there was something that wasn't right. As soon as Cuddy and his mother began talking, he followed Kate into the other room.<p>

"What did my Mom tell you?" he asked, his voice low to avoid being overheard.

"That you were a good kid and a damn cute toddler," Kate answered.

"You of all people know my cuteness is not limited to toddlerhood…what else…"

"You were very curious."

"A startling revelation. What did she tell you that's making you uncomfortable?"

"I didn't want to tell you this…"

"Just tell me…now that you've said that, you've guaranteed that I'll never stop asking."

"Well, she turned me down, I'm _completely_ devastated," Kate teased.

"I really do hate you, you know that, right? Thanks for reminding me." He adopted his announcer voice and said, "Today's deflection was brought to you by…"

"Absolutely nothing…because there is no deflection."

"Either Mom told you something that makes you question something about me, or she asked you something about me that you answered but you wished you didn't."

"Neither. Trust me, your mom and I really didn't talk about you much. I know you prefer to be the center of attention…but we managed to find other things to discuss."

"Then why are you being weird?"

"House, let it go."

"Right…"

"You are so much more annoying than I am…I'm serious…please?"

"I'll follow you around until you tell me…and keep in mind, there's no time outs…I'll be with you _all _of the time…"

"Your leg will get tired."

"So will yours," he said, noticing the wince that his comment produced when Kate was alerted to the fact that he noticed the remaining deficits in her strength that she tried so desperately to hide.

Although she was often able to keep the outward manifestations of her condition to a minimum, by the end of the day, when her body grew tired, it was easy to see that she still had not fully recovered. She usually went to her room as soon as she began to show weakness, hoping that no one else would notice.

"I got a phone call today…about the investigation. Some cop has some theory."

House nodded, "What kind of theory?"

"I don't know, it doesn't matter."

"Which is it? That you don't know, or that it doesn't matter?"

"It doesn't matter. I just want them to let it go."

"You want them to let it go? What kind of stupid bullshit is that?"

"I'm ready to move on. I'm recovering, forgiving, forgetting…I don't want all of this dredged up again."

"They caught the guy, didn't they? It's not like it's a big mystery…"

"I guess…the cop feels there's more. So they want to do some more interviews and stuff…that's all. So my demeanor has nothing to do with your mom talking about your cute little baby butt, or some embarrassing secret she told me about you."

"OK," he said, dropping the subject for the moment.

Kate said, "I'm going to head over to the bar, check on stuff."

"Go pick up a new girl or something…treat yourself…"

* * *

><p>House walked out to the living room after Kate left to find Cuddy and his mom eating the carryout food, and looking through the box of pictures Kate gave them from their wedding.<p>

"Oh, Greg!" Blythe said, "This is just beautiful."

"Yea, yea," he said dismissively, sitting on the chair adjacent to the sofa where the women were sitting.

Cuddy was opening the envelope that Kate left in the bottom of the box, hoping there were more pictures inside, and talking about the confusion when they first arrived at the marina for their honeymoon. "There's this…tiny, dilapidated boat…it is a wonder this thing was still afloat, and all I can think is…is…"

Cuddy stared at some papers that she pulled from the envelope and completely lost her train of thought. "What is it?" House asked.

Cuddy handed him a small stack of papers, and leaned forward, her forearms resting on her cross legs, waiting for him to look at what she found. There was a note on the top written on a large yellow sticky note:

_Lisa and House,_

_This gift is a multi-tasker. First off, it's a wedding present. So glad you guys got hitched. I've said it before, and it's the best piece of advice I'll ever give—don't fuck it up._

_Secondly, this is a thank you. With everything that happened to me, I would have lost all of this if it wouldn't have been for the two of you. _

_Love,  
><em>

_Sexy Frankenstein  
><em>

The note was attached to paperwork that, once signed and notarized, would make the three of them equal owners of her bar.

Cuddy and House were both slightly overwhelmed by the gift, but neither mentioned it to his mother. They enjoyed a relatively comfortable visit with Blythe for another hour until she went to bed, preparing for an early cab ride to the airport to return home.

Cuddy was sleeping not long after they went to bed, but House was preoccupied with both his earlier discussion with Kate, and the gift she gave them. He got out of bed, leaving a note for Cuddy, and went to the bar to find his friend.

The bar was closed to patrons, and he entered through the kitchen door using his key. He could hear the sounds of keys being struck on the piano out by the stage. He found Kate sitting at it, her right hand resting on her lap, her left hand playing the bass line of a song he'd heard her play before. The back of the piano was lined with empty bottles of expensive imported beer.

"You supposed to be drinking?"

"Are you?" she asked, without turning around, knowing instinctively who was lurking in the background as soon as she heard the back door alarm buzzing.

"I'm probably more 'supposed to be drinking' than you are…but…I am actually not drinking at this moment."

"Help yourself."

He walked up to the stage, standing next to the crappy piano and watching her.

"Why don't we have one of these at home?" he said, tapping the piano.

"Not enough room."

"We could make room…sell the sofa…"

Kate chuckled, "Or, maybe we should get a bigger place."

"Maybe. I _will_ grow up…move out eventually."

"Whenever…I'm not asking you to leave."

"You want to tell me about this detective deal?"

"I told you about it." She said, plunking out a few more notes. "They're investigating, if it goes to trial they want me to testify, blah, blah, blah…bunch of stuff I don't want to think about anymore."

"You doing OK?" he asked.

"I can't even play the fucking piano anymore."

"That's alright, you weren't all that great to begin with," he said, trying to make her laugh, but already regretting the jibe.

She chuckled a little, "That…is true," she answered.

"You seem to be doing pretty well."

"I have zero dexterity in these fingers," she said, holding up her right hand, "Leg muscles are responding well to training…until fatigue sets in…but I can work with that. My fingers…they're…heavy…half useless. Good thing I'm not a surgeon, huh?"

"Yea. We'll have to work on that…how are you supposed to see patients and sit in the chair taking notes about them if your hand isn't working right…isn't that part of therapy…the paranoia that sets in while you are worried about what the shrink's writing?"

"I don't really think too many of us do that anymore."

"Let me see you play."

She put her hand down on the keys, and he could see the attempts at movement, but they were clumsy and slow.

"Guess I'll be sticking to the baseline," she commented.

"I'm sure the beer isn't helping."

"I only had two, the rest of these weren't mine. New band came in."

Kate sat back, rubbing her face with her hand and staring ahead. House leaned his cane against the piano, sat down next to her, on the left side, and reached around her with his right arm to play.

"If you want me to move, just fucking tell me," she said shortly, not in the mood to watch someone else do the thing she so desperately wanted to do.

"If I wanted you to move, I would have told you…I know, I'm _such_ a shrinking violet"

She started to pull away, trying to get away from the closest thing to a hug he would ever initiate with her, and he pulled her back down onto the bench, saying sternly, "Just sit down and be quiet."

He picked up her left arm at the wrist and dropped her hand on the keys. His right started to move, playing the song she wanted to play when he walked into the bar. It was easy to stay in time, the two of them so accustomed to the song, and her left leg tapping the rhythm as it always did, whether she was singing, or playing, or listening. He often joked with her that her incessant tapping to music was one of the most reliable phenomena in the universe.

She was initially stiff, convinced that he was planning some sort of experiment to evaluate her progress, but when she realized what he was doing she relaxed into the music. When she let go, she could feel the strangeness of his presence next to her, and found it both supportive and fraternal. In their years together it was by far the longest and most personal contact they had ever had. She lifted her right hand slowly, so she could place it over his. His tune hiccupped for only a second, when he felt her fingers line up over his so she could feel the rise and fall of them on the keys, so she could sense the percussive nature of playing through her body.

She closed her eyes, and lowered her head slightly, allowing her brain to think she alone was playing, making the sounds that filled the bar, and her head, and her soul with the harmonic noise that she craved.

When the first song was over he went immediately into another that he knew she could play. Although he was by far the more experienced pianist, he played at the same level she would have played, so the experience would feel real in almost every sense. When that song was over, he withdrew his arms and stood next to the piano.

"Thanks," she said, her voice sounding calm as if she had just woken from sleep.

"You're welcome. You should take up the guitar…your hand can handle some strumming, try to work up to the harder stuff as your dexterity improves."

"You know as well as I do that may never happen."

"It can work. The guitar would be the perfect physical therapy."

"It's a good idea," she answered.

"Let's go home, I have a real job now, so I guess I should check on the real patient in the morning."

"I can drive myself, I'll meet you at home."

"Let's just not…test that theory. Beer…and muscle fatigue…"

"Fine," she said begrudgingly.

When they walked out the back door toward the car and she checked the lock she looked at him and said, "Thanks for that…and…I have to give it to you…"

"What?"

"No man has ever made me feel that good…nicely done."

House chuckled.

"Are you embarrassed?" she asked.

"Fuck no. I'm just nervous about catching lesbian cooties."

She laughed, "Asshole."

"Speaking of lesbian cooties…why aren't you out swapping them with lovely young hotties anymore?"

"That was on my list of no-no's from my surgeon."

"Was…meaning…no longer is…"

"I'll get there. I'm just…"

"The trauma turned you straight didn't it?"

"If the trauma was that bad, suicide would be my only option."

"Seriously, though…is it because Cuddy and I are there?"

"No. I told you, I tried, your mom turned me down," she joked.

He stared blankly at her.

"Fine," Kate continued, "I'm not ready. I'd be a horrible lay right now anyway."

"I doubt that," he said, defending her, "I think you should get back out there. You look…like you again. Go find a hookup…get back in the proverbial saddle."

Kate sighed, "I have half a lame arm…my leg gives up on me after a while…"

"My leg gives up immediately; I think you'll be fine."

"The one bullet…" she said, thinking about what she wanted to say, "The one bullet hit my boob, I'm all scarred up now."

"Oh," he said, thinking to himself. "Reconstructive surgery?"

"It's not that bad…it's just a scar."

"Where exactly is it?"

"I don't think you wife wants me flashing you my tits."

"Don't really think she'd care, but I meant, point to the location...always so eager to whip out the boobs."

She pointed to the location and he scoffed, "First off…that doesn't really even count as 'boob'. That area is sort of like…'pre-boob'. And anyway, why are you suddenly so self-conscious about stuff like that. You think your hookups care about something like that? You aren't even with them long enough for them to find it."

"With hookups…it's all about attraction and appearance."

"No…it's all about the sex. Stop worrying and go find yourself a girl. If that goes OK, consider shopping around for one to keep. It's worth it for the unexpected weekday morning sex alone. You don't have to go pick it up, or call for it…it's just there."

"OK…you need to quit being a doctor right now…and be a marriage counselor, it's so beautiful," Kate said, wiping away a fake tear.

When they got in the car, and he began to drive, he said, gruffly, "The bar…"

"Nope."

"Nope?"

"I don't want to talk about it. I've decided, the decision it's made…it's all settled. Besides, now that you know it's willed to you, I'm figuring you'll kill me off in my sleep for it, I might as well share willingly and continue breathing."

* * *

><p>After they got home, House returned to bed, still just a little surprised to find his bed filled with the woman he wanted to find there. Part of him wondered if at some point he'd become completely accustomed to her presence, most of him hoped he never would. "She OK?" Cuddy asked through a cracking voice.<p>

"Yea, she's fine," he said, pulling her to him.

"Ya know," she said, turning around to face him, "I have no idea how I used to sleep without you."

"Were you awake the whole time?" he asked.

"Just on and off," she said as she wiggled closer, finding the position where they molded together perfectly so they could sleep facing each other.

Her breath became even and deep quickly, sleep overtaking her easily once he was back in their bed. Seeing Kate's loneliness always reminded him how much he appreciated his new circumstance and he brushed the hair back from the side of Cuddy's face and watched her before surrendering to the haze of near sleep.

In near sleep, he remembered such a short time ago, lying in that same bed alone, wondering why he bothered staying drug-free and responsible, wondering if it was even worth it. Back then, his life was content, but bland, his world dimly grey, and in the space of moments, everything changed.

* * *

><p>Cuddy's phone rang at 6:00am sharp, the results of the patient's tests were available. They said their goodbye's to Blythe, who was on her way home.<p>

"I hope you have some sort of wedding for the rest of us common folk, Greg. When you do, you had better call me. Please don't make me ambush you when James' second child is born in order to see you again."

House smiled, "I'll let you know when we have the shindig."

"Lisa, dear," Blythe said sweetly, "I am so pleased that my son chose so well…you seem to make his life happier than it was. Greg, would you walk me out to the cab?"

"Oh, I'm really pressed for time…" he said, looking down at his watch.

"You can't spare two minutes?"

"Yea, sure," he said, awkwardly. He hated uncomfortable goodbyes.

While they walked out toward the waiting taxi she said, "You…are a wonderful man. I'm glad I got to come here and confirm what I've always known. It's so amazing to see that…you finally know it too."

She gave him a brief, formal hug while he looked down the street, wishing he could redirect the conversation quickly away from its current topic.

"Have a safe flight," he said, once he finally decided on a response.

"I hope I see you soon," she responded, as she got into the cab and nodded goodbye.

When House and Cuddy were in the car going to the hospital to see their patient his phone rang. "Who is it?" House sang into the phone.

"Where in the hell's our office?" House heard in a familiar Australian accent. "And where the hell are you?"

"It's only 7:45," House said, "where do you think I am?"

"You want me to say that I think you're still in bed…but you're not. You're on your way in to work."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because…one, you are married to Cuddy now…I think she probably wakes up at some godawful hour, and two, I know you…you want to get to this patient as badly as I do."


	76. Chapter 76

**A/N**-_Thank you to all of the readers and reviewers: TheHouseWitch, JLCH, LapizSilkwood, lenasti16, housebound, bonneiyy77, IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, viclupa, dmarchl, jkv97, Way Worse Than Scottish, ClareBear14, Boo's House, iridescentZEN, Alex, Abby, Mon Fogel and HuddyGirl._

_Hey all, I'm going on vacation. There may be an update tomorrow before I go or somewhere along the way, but I make no promises. I'll be gone for a week, then I'll be back _

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>Celia was sitting at a small desk in the consultation room humming contentedly while she put pens and envelopes and all manner of office supplies in their places. House and Cuddy opted to give her a quiet area to make calls and avoid the often spirited discussions that would occur in the larger office. Both House and Cuddy agreed that they would try to avoid bringing patients and families up to their office anyway. Chase looked…happy, extremely, lottery-winningly happy. Wilson was showing Kate and Chase pictures of his son on his phone, and sharing the anecdotes of early stage parenting.<p>

Celia walked into the larger office and considered the people she hadn't met. She looked over Wilson, and pictures of his son and nodded her approval, then, folded her arms and looked at Chase, "You work here?"

"Yes," he said, extending a hand, "Chase."

"Chase…oh, I'll give you a chase, honey!"

"Excuse me?" he said with amused surprise.

"You are one, nice looking white boy. There really aren't many of you, but you…" she started to giggle almost uncontrollably and then said, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, I think this new job has me giddy."

"Celia, I'm the only one getting paid to sexually harass Chase…or anyone else on the team," House said, "if you're angling for a raise, it's no use, I've got it covered."

Celia smirked, began walking back to her desk, and said, "I'm Celia, I'll do the secretarial stuff…or whatever you need."

Wilson and Chase were discussing one of the latest rumors at PPTH when House interrupted, "I hate to put a damper on the girl talk…but we do have a patient…a really itchy yellow guy. Yellow as in the color, and not a commentary on his cowardice."

"Blood work confirms, it's not Hepatitis, biopsy confirms it's not cirrhosis," Cuddy said.

"Early stage Cholangiocarcinoma?" Wilson asked, looking over the file. "MRI results just came in this morning. There appear to be small tumors here…lining either side of the bile duct… easily missed on the CT, but on the MRI...there's definitely something there."

Cuddy looked over his shoulder, "Those aren't large enough to cause a blockage though. Something's got to be blocking the duct."

"Has anyone done an endoscopy?" House asked, looking through the file.

"Last time he had symptoms. They didn't find anything then…that was…two years ago," Wilson answered. "He came in with a blockage, they did the endoscopy, found nothing, his symptoms disappeared on their own."

"Symptoms don't just disappear," House said, "Something makes them disappear or masks them, so what did they do while he was here."

"Umm," Chase said, "looks like a lot of tests, but as far as treatment, the only thing they really did was hydrate…put him on clear foods. The endoscopy was to remove a blockage that they thought they saw during a CT, but when they went in, there was nothing there."

Kate held up the image from the patient's earlier hospital stay, "They didn't _think _they saw a blockage, they definitely saw one…" she said, pointing to the image.

"Maybe the blockage dislodged on its own," Cuddy said, "Let's assume they did see a blockage, and by the time they did the procedure, it was gone."

"Chase you're up. Scope the itchy yellow guy. See what you can find," House said, "Kate, go with him make sure he doesn't get lost."

She opened her mouth to speak and he answered before she could, "I don't want to hear about you being on leave…you're back, you're sitting here in the office participating…you wouldn't be in here if you weren't ready. Go."

She shut her mouth, shrugged and followed Chase out of the room.

Wilson smiled at his friends. "So, when are you coming to Princeton?"

"What in the hell are you doing here anyway? I didn't call you in…and aren't you on paternity leave?" House asked.

"I am, Ann's aged aunties are visiting today, so I figured I'd get out for a minute."

"It's an hour drive," House observed. "Each way."

"So I wanted a little break…plus…I'm excited! It's good to work with you guys again, and I'll be home before the aunties go on their merry way." Wilson replied. "So…as I was saying…when are you guys coming up to Princeton?"

"When this case is over. I think we'll set up there, show everyone around," Cuddy answered.

"I have a favor to ask of you when you come up…after work," Wilson said, looking at Cuddy.

"Go ahead," Cuddy responded nodding, "You guys take your boys night, I know it's been a long time, and you probably want some time away from the baby. I'll hang out at the apartment for the night."

"Well, that's sweet of you…but…not exactly what I was going to ask. You don't have to do this…it's up to you."

"What do you want me to do, Wilson?" Cuddy asked suspiciously.

"Ann's…having trouble adjusting. I was wondering if maybe you'd take her out…shopping or something…she needs to get out of the house for a little bit. Her aunts are…nice, but I think she needs a friend."

Cuddy slowly nodded, "Yea, OK."

"Are you sure that's OK? If it makes you uncomfortable…"

"If it makes me uncomfortable to shop?" Cuddy asked.

"No…the whole…thing… I know the two of you have never been exceptionally close," Wilson said.

"It's fine. No problem," she said, with a smile that was almost unnoticeably disingenuous. "Does that…mean that you and House are going to watch the baby?" she asked with a hopeful and teasing grin.

"Nope," House answered, "Wilson will watch his kid. I will play in Wilson's game room, and remind him that he agreed to this fatherhood deal when the kid poops all over his tie."

Cuddy patted Wilson's arm, "Get me pictures. House, take an extra shirt…you'll probably need it," she grinned.

* * *

><p>When Chase and Kate returned a couple of hours later, they were discussing their findings.<p>

"A small non-calcified stone didn't show on scans. There _are_ tumors in the bile duct that reduced the opening, causing this small stone that normally would have passed through unnoticed to get lodged."

"So, two years ago…it was probably just another stone. They'll have to remove the gallbladder so there are no more stones, and treat the cancer…and that's it?" Kate asked.

Wilson looked over the findings, "These tumors are actually often fatal by the time they are discovered because they usually metastasize before they cause any other noticeable problems. The fact that this guy had gall stones…alerted us to the problem, probably saved his life. We'll check the lymph nodes, maybe do a few more tests, to be sure it didn't spread, but…I think he'll be OK."

"Come on, Wilson," Cuddy said, "Let's go talk to the family…let them know what's going on."

* * *

><p>"You know, Kate…If you keep talking like a real doctor, I'll have to pull you over from psych full time. It's sort of heartbreaking…you actually could have been a real doctor instead of just playing one for the crazy people," House said.<p>

"You…had a recent surgery?" Chase asked, looking at Kate's head.

"Accident…Head trauma," Kate responded.

"How are you healing…do you have…any issues since the surgery?"

"A little weakness, I'm doing PT. Some headaches, nothing horrible," Kate answered.

"That's perfect!" Chase answered enthusiastically.

Kate looked at him startled. "You'll have to forgive Chase," House said, "He has issues with appropriate emotional responses."

"House's disease, isn't that what that's called?" Chase jabbed, and then turned his attention back to Kate, "No, I have a friend, in neurology. He's doing research in retraining the brain after trauma. Just spoke to him a few weeks ago, he was looking for participants for the study if you're interested."

"I don't know, I think I'm progressing fine on my own. By the time I'd get around to it, it might be too late to get in."

"You're a doctor, he might be interested in including you off the record. You might be able to provide him with some interesting insight into the program, and it might help with your lingering symptoms. Think about it…if you're interested, I'll get you the contact information. So…House, how's life now that you're married to the former arch-nemesis?"

"Pure wedded bliss," he said, trying to sound sarcastic, "…and she's still my arch-nemesis, don't dismiss one her finer qualities. Neurology…is this 'friend' perhaps a former employee, maybe working at Columbia…"

"Yes," Chase said, "and before you ask, he doesn't want on the team, trust me, he has complete control up there of his own little neurological world. He doesn't want to lose all of that to get back in your web."

"I wasn't inviting him back on the team, I just like to keep track of all of my exes," he said to Chase. "Kate, if you go, you'll have to sign non-disclosure agreements…and promise me your eternal soul…I've put way too much effort into training you to have you running off to join forces with Foreman."

"No offense, House, I think Foreman is happy that he finally is establishing his own identity…stepping out of your shadow… I don't think he feels like taking on 'your' people," Chase answered.

"Well, until you take me on full time, I'm going down to my office," Kate said before walking out the door, "Bye guys."

* * *

><p>Becker entered the office shortly after Kate left, "Someone said the case is solved?" Her tone and body posture were aggressive, certainly not the reaction House expected from her when they solved the case in a little over twenty-four hours.<p>

"Yup," House said, trying to figure out why the woman was angry.

"I didn't get any updates along the way…I didn't even know you chose a case."

"I did. And now it's solved. Which, by the way...was a pretty easy case, and probably the best one out of the stack of files you gave us. There have got to be far more interesting cases out there."

"Well," Becker said with irritation, "we didn't have a diagnostician here in the hospital until yesterday. Once people know you are here, I suspect you'll be receiving some more _interesting _cases. Now, as I said, why didn't I hear you chose a case? I also hear you did an endoscopy, a biopsy, a lot of blood work…and that someone's scheduling further surgery…and…I heard nothing."

"Apparently you heard something, because you are here asking me about it now," he answered.

"I heard after the fact from _my_ boss! When the dean asked me for updates on you, I told him you were just getting settled in, and he tells me he heard you have already begun treatment. That makes me look like a fool."

"No…don't be silly, it's everything else that you do that makes you look like a fool."

Becker couldn't see Chase's wide eyed reaction to House's response.

"Dr. House, you work for me while you are here…" Becker said authoritatively.

"Um…no…I'm a consultant hired by your hospital to do my work in the building, completely different."

"Let's avoid getting off on the wrong foot," Becker said in a sweetly condescending voice.

"Too late. We already got off on the wrong foot when you asked how Cuddy's dead daughter was doing. I took you for a complete moron at that point, and…I've seen nothing to change my mind."

Even the phony smile disappeared from her face at that point. "Dr. House, you are in this hospital, and I am responsible for you. So, when you want to do a procedure, I should know about it. When you take a case, I want to know which one, and if there's a damn _DIAGNOSIS_, I better hear about it! Is there any part of what I said that was unclear?"

"Celia!" House shouted.

The older woman walked into the room quickly. "Can you jot down a little memo for me?" House asked.

"Well sure," she answered.

He stared at Becker while telling Celia what to write. "_Memo to Dr. Becker, the insecure assistant dean_…make sure you get this right, Celia…word-for-word…"

Her eyes were wide as she said, "Absolutely."

"Where was I…oh yea. _I solved the fucking case. While I was solving the fucking case, I did some things in order to solve it, since I have yet to master the art of diagnosing via the laying on of hands. Yours truly in the pursuit of medical excellence, Gregory House._"

Celia looked up at him to see if there was anything else. "That's it Celia. Make sure you save that one, that way you can just change the date and reuse the same damn memo."

Celia stood slowly and left the room. "We good now, Becker?" House asked.

"I can make sure you never work in this hospital again, so don't play games with me, House."

"My wife did a little research…she discovered that over twenty-percent of your donations come from Medford. Medford likes me. He likes me working. Something tells me, if you don't want me here in this hospital, I'll have to find a different hospital…and I'm thinking some of Medford's dollars may saunter away with me."

"All that I'm asking is that you keep me up to date, not that you let me hold your hand."

"Well, since you're _asking_…I'll make an effort."

Becker clenched her jaw as she left.

"You know," Chase said, "Cuddy's going to get jealous if she hears you courting another woman like that."

"Cuddy was never that much of an idiot. She didn't expect to hear about every liver biopsy or a few panels of blood work. She certainly didn't complain about referring a cancer patient to an oncologist for treatment or the fact that she wasn't the first person to hear a case was solved. She had her own job, and usually didn't bother me until things got interesting. This case never really got interesting. The patient wasn't nearly close enough to death to make it fun. It…was a warmup."

Cuddy and Wilson walked back into the room. "We saw Becker in the hallway," Cuddy said.

House squinted one eye, and braced for impact while Cuddy continued, "And I walked up to her to tell her what was going on and she said, 'I know…you solved the fucking case.' I have this feeling like…maybe you spoke to her?" she said with a look of expectant delight.

"Maybe," he said, nodding hesitantly. "We were…establishing some boundaries."

Chase was smiling awkwardly at Cuddy. "Chase…is something…wrong?" she asked.

"Wrong? No. Not at all!"

"What is that?" she asked pointing to him and then to her own face.

"Nothing…I just…feel like I shouldn't trust you...or…I shouldn't…talk about it in front of you."

Her reaction was both confused and incredulous, "What…did I ever do to make you not trust me?"

"Well...I spent a lot of years hiding things from you. House had us sneaking around behind your back…like when…" Chase stopped and smiled, as Cuddy sat back in her chair waiting to hear more.

"Please, Chase, continue, what did House have you doing?"

"Nothing," he said, smiling, "I'm actually going to head down to Kate's office…and talk to her about Foreman's study…"

Chase waved as he left the room.

"And I'm heading out too," Wilson added, "Let me know if you can make it maybe…tomorrow night…I'm sure Ann would really appreciate it."

"I really love that Chase's still just the tiniest little bit intimidated by me…or…at least suspicious of me," Cuddy said.

She started looking over the remaining case files, and unable to find anything of interest, she sat back and said, "So we going to head up to Princeton tomorrow…stake our claim on the old office? See if Simpson has any idea what kind of cases it takes to get your heart pounding?"

"By staking our claim on the old office, you mean…" House asked smugly.

"I mean settling in…entirely clothed."

House thought for a moment, "Yes…I can make something work even if entirely clothed. I'm all for creativity."

"Things we'd be willing to do in front of my mother…"

"Actually, I'm not really willing to do anything in front of your mother…she's…irritating…"

They walked down the hall toward the elevators, "You aren't going to follow up with 'So, House what exactly did you have Chase doing' or other annoying questions like that?" he asked, doing a whiny and high-pitched impersonation of her voice.

"Do I sound like that?"

"It's a really loose approximation."

"I…honestly don't want to know…about the Chase thing…I'm figuring that, the things you had them do that were brilliant and amazing, you've probably already bragged about…and the things I haven't heard…I probably don't want to know..."

"Probably not…"

"Great, then we agree. We're going home first, right…before we go to Princeton?" she asked.

"Sure," House answered, "thought you might want to bring clothes for the next few days…in case we're lucky enough to get a real case."

"Sounds good," she responded.

* * *

><p>When they got back to Kate's, House was on his phone telling the members of his team where to meet in the morning. When he hung up he heard Cuddy calling him from the garage. He rolled his eyes, wishing he could just sit and relax on the sofa for a few minutes, but stood from the sofa and went to find her.<p>

In the garage, he found Cuddy...and a motorcycle. "Where in the hell did you find that? It's just like my old one," he said stunned, as he pointed to the Repsol.

"No," she said, "it isn't just _like_ your old one…it _is_ your old one. I know how you like your stuff," she added with a shrug.

"How did you find it?"

"Title trace."

"And the kid…sold it back to you?"

"Yup."

House stared at it blankly. "Look," she said, "it's your wedding present…if I would have known we were getting married sooner, I would have had it for you…so…obviously it's late…"

He didn't answer, looking it over and confirming that it was indeed his bike. "House," she continued, "If you don't want it, if you want something bigger or newer, we can do that instead…maybe it was a bad idea…"

She was definitely concerned. Something that she thought he would love, didn't seem to provoke much of a reaction at all.

"It's perfect," he said, after several minutes of study, finally removing his gaze from the bike to look at her with a small smile, but his eyes were alive with delight. "I…don't believe it. How'd you get it back here?" he asked.

"I rode it."

His jaw went slack as he stared at her with confusion. "You? Learned to ride?"

"Oh yea," she said as she confidently kicked her leg over the bike and started it up.

He had an expression of complete bemusement, as he looked back and forth between her face, and the bike beneath her. "I don't believe it"

"OK," she said, "that's the only thing I really know how to do with it...I had the guy bring it for me, but it was worth the lie to see that expression on your face."

She giggled and waited for a reaction from him. "Thank you," he nodded, and spoke with sincerity, "That…is an amazing gift."

"Please…be careful on it…promise me"

"Definitely. Now, what do I have to do to convince you to hop on it for a little ride with me?"


	77. Chapter 77

**A/N**-_housebound, grouchysnarky, TheHouseWitch, lenasti16, LoveMyHouse, JLCH, LapizSilkwood, IHeartHouseCuddy, jkv97, annonnie, dmarchl, CaptainK8, jkarr, Bakerstreet Blues, Suzieqlondon, Way Worse Than Scottish, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, BETEDELSTEIN, ClareBear14 and gemdevisine  
><em>

_I am pathetic, yes,__ strangely I had time to write last night because I don't sleep any better on vacation than I do any other friggin' night of the year (What else am I supposed to do quietly in the middle of the night? I know, I have a problem). I'd like to thank a fellow known only as "Scottish Bob" for his extraordinarily soulful, drunken, 45 minute serenade while I jotted notes for a future chapter...such a unique and persistent inspiration!  
><em>

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. Also, this chapter contains some adult content, if offended, just skip to the first line break.  
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><p>House had to do strikingly little to convince Cuddy to ride with him; she purchased two helmets for just that reason. There were so many things she wished they had done more of in the past, so many fun things that got lost in the insecurities, professional obligations and arguments, many of which later seemed so insignificant. When she decided to try to find a bike similar to his, she wondered what actually happened to his.<p>

It was amazing what she could find out with a credit card and a computer. She easily found the guy House sold his bike to after prison. Life had taken such a toll on House that, by the time he walked out of jail, nothing seemed even remotely _like_ fun. Even the bike. The man who had it, a self-assured and snide twenty year-old when Cuddy called him to discuss purchasing the bike back, sneered into the phone when she asked him if he'd consider selling it.

Usually when she wanted something, she had her skills and knowledge to sell, often with the support of her reputation, connections, and references, to use as leverage. Perhaps best of all, most people she negotiated with, on some level, feared her.

There were many times, in the infancy of her career, when she'd enter meetings with people who didn't know her, where tables of established older _professionals _would disregard her the moment she walked into the room. She'd usually begin quietly, listening with a professional, yet open, understanding expression. Then when the time was right, and she always knew when the time was right, she'd show them the brilliant, shrewd, and powerful fighter behind the pretty face and feminine body. They always remembered her after that.

For all of her fine negotiating techniques, this condescending troglodyte had her bested. He had something she wanted, and the only thing he wanted from her was money. She paid almost twice what she thought it would cost, but when House hopped on his bike and grinned at her, she realized she would have paid so much more.

"Lemme back it out," he said with a grin before turning it on to let it warm up.

Cuddy ran inside to trade her skirt for jeans. She came out of the house, stood next to him, and put on the helmet looking far _more_ excited, and far _less_ concerned than he had expected. He held out an elbow for her to use to pull herself up on the bike and she shimmied close to him and held on far too tight.

He tapped her hands, "Can't breathe, Cuddy."

"Sorry," she said, her voice muffled through the full faced helmet.

He slapped down the face shield of his helmet and took off with the fervor of a man who'd been denied a passion for far too long. Although she was trying not to hold on too tightly, she had one hand locked on the wrist of her other arm, her knuckles white with strain. After a few minutes, she began to relax more. It had been years since she'd been on a bike. Once she was calmer she placed her open hands against him, one on his lower stomach, one just below his ribs. He could feel her every movement since he wasn't wearing a jacket; it was hot, the last breath of an Indian Summer in the air.

Having a woman holding tightly onto him from the back of his bike felt as amazing then as it did over thirty years earlier. That much was undeniable. It almost seemed silly at that point, given his age, his life experience, his experience with women in general, but her, hanging onto him, was _exciting_. He could have sex with her almost whenever he wanted, hell they were married and certainly weren't hiding that fact, but she was in public, hanging onto him for dear life, completely trusting him to make all of the decisions…in a very real way, trusting him with her life. Bikes like his didn't have seat backs or sissy bars, so she had to hang on or fly off.

Once she really started having fun and relaxing, he could feel her thumb rubbing along his stomach, caressing his skin through his shirt. She had a chance to appreciate the feeling of having him wrapped up in her arms. The smell of him caught in the wind and was flinging past her as they rode. The fact that she agreed to the ride and the way she touched him was so much better than the gift of the bike itself.

They got back home after an hour and she hopped off the back, removing the helmet, and trying to shake the feeling back into the numbed parts of her lower extremities. "Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to just…grope you during that whole ride?" she said with a giggle.

House tried to speak and she continued, "Seriously, I don't know what it is…that just made me want to touch you _so_ badly. Was it the speed, the excitement, our proximity?"

He shrugged, listening to her with intrigue. "Look," he began, trying to speak again.

"I mean really, how often are we _that_ close for _that_ long and _not_ doing something sexual," she said almost nervously. Before he could speak, she continued, "I know…it's dangerous and stupid and reckless, and all of that…which is why I didn't _actually_ do anything."

"Right, but…" he began.

"I can't explain what it is…why…it's _such_ an incredible turn on. It's fine, make fun…I'm being girlie and silly and stupid, or you think I'm a complete slut for you blah, blah, blah. Go ahead…"

He stared at her, waiting, and gestured with his hand for her to continue. She shook her head and said, "I'm done."

"You sure? You and your personalities were having quite the enthusiastic discussion…I'm a stickler for manners, so I'd hate to interrupt."

"Yes!"

"Don't act surprised, you've barely let me speak," he said with a smirk.

She put her hand on a jutted out hip and said, dryly, "You have my rapt attention."

"Although I agree that it would be incredibly dangerous, particularly given your skillset, I was thinking the exact same thing."

"My skillset?"

"Yes…definitely. I credit some of my current mental acuity with the exercise you've been giving my brain, by exercising my body, because it takes the utmost focus to just remember my name half of the time."

"That is so cool," she said, teasing, "Now I don't have to worry about which name I'm screaming."

He smirked, "You've never had to bother _thinking_ about which name you're screaming. At least not with me. I was going to suggest that you've had to refrain from calling out my name when you were with the other idiots you've been with…but, then I realized, that none of them have been anywhere near as good as I am…your body would instinctively know you are in less competent hands."

"Is that so?" she asked, trying not to smirk at his bravado.

"Yea…besides, it isn't like you have to think about it…you know how my name just…rolls off your tongue."

"Confident, aren't we?"

"Yup. Now take off your shirt…" he smirked.

"No! You take off yours."

He hung his helmet on the handle bar and pulled his shirt off, "Oh, no…how humiliating!" he feigned.

She smirked. "God, you are such a smart ass."

"I love it when you call me that."

Knowing exactly what he meant, she teased, "You love it when I call you smart ass?"

"No…'god'. You knew exactly what I meant. It always sounds so forced when you try to use my earthly name."

She shook her head, enjoying the fact that they could still cajole each other, still tease, banter and play. She leaned down, put her own helmet on the floor in front of the bike and pulled off her form fitting tee shirt. "There," she said, trying to explain to him with her tone that she was completely unaffected by her behavior.

She stood in front of him, taking a confident stance. "That the same bra you wore to work today?" he asked, flagrantly admiring the way she looked.

"Yea. Why?" she asked, looking down.

"Just for future reference, it would be great to know _before_ work what you look like in your little skimpy underthings."

"I think you're already pretty familiar with that."

"I would like a sample each morning…an up-to-date and situationally appropriate reminder. It's a simple request, then when people irritate me, or I can't clear my head, I can picture whatever you're wearing…cleanse the mental pallet."

"My bras are like brain sorbet?"

"No, your bras are pretty forgettable on their own. You, _wearing_ your bras, is like brain sorbet."

"I'm always willing to facilitate genius," she answered, her hips twisting below her waist like they so often did when she was feeling most attracted to him.

He turned to sit sideways on the bike, leaning against it. "Take off your bra."

"I'm not standing completely topless in the garage."

"Why not?"

"What if Kate comes home…and opens the garage door? I don't want our neighbors to say 'morning', but really mean 'hey I saw you standing in your garage half naked, have a nice day.' I'd prefer they didn't have that image of me."

"It takes that garage door at least thirty seconds to open. Plenty of time to hide yourself in the unlikely event that the garage door would be opened and our neighbors would be standing there."

"No!" she said emphatically.

He just stared at her, watching the way she breathed, and stood, and felt herself being watched. She stepped closer to him so she was almost touching him and reached back slowly, pushing her breasts forward, unsnapping the bra, and sliding it down both arms. "That's better.," he said before he spun her around. "It might be more fun if I put you in front of me on the bike next time…" he suggested.

She laughed softly, more a stuttered breath than a giggle. "I'm sure that would be quite the interesting sight."

"Thank you for the gift," he said softly, and she nodded her acknowledgement. He put his chin on her shoulder and looked down to admire her breasts, allowing his hands to trace upwards to hold them while he soaked in the sight of his hands caressing her. "Are you still feeling that almost undeniable urge to touch me?" he whispered in her ear, his scruffy face against her smooth skin, "even though the bike ride's over…"

She nodded her head, then reached her hand between them to fondle him through his jeans before opening the button and shoving her hand inside his pants. "Is this the skillset you were referring to?" she asked, demandingly seeking contact.

"One of the skills in the set."

He reached for the button of her jeans to open them and she stopped his hand with a firm touch. "Not out here, House," she said sternly.

He nodded once, moving his lips down to her shoulder, and she relaxed while he pressed his hand against her through her clothes. She pulled away from him, grabbed his hand and said, "Let's go inside."

"I'd love to mess around, Cuddy, but I can't. We have to get to Princeton tonight, it's an early day tomorrow," he said.

She looked startled, "What?"

"I'm kidding," he said, "I really don't care where in the hell we have to be."

She smiled and walked in through the doorway unbuttoning her pants, but not removing them, just sticking her thumbs in the pockets and scooting them lower on her hips. "Well…" she said, watching him eagerly follow her inside.

Her phone began to ring from her back pants' pocket just as he clicked their door shut. He reached in, collected the phone because he could see how much it was distracting her, and powered it off, "Oops," he said before placing it on the dresser.

He began kissing her again, but abruptly stopped, "You aren't going to ask who it is?"

She reached one hand back into his jeans and grabbed the base of his erection and worked her fingers along his length. He responded quietly, "Answers that."

* * *

><p>Later that evening she drove up to his old apartment while he rode his bike. She was much more open to options then she used to be, but strangely wasn't willing to wear clothes that could be kept in a backpack to work the next morning. She told him she was tired, that he should go take a nice long ride, and she'd drive up with some clothes to meet him at the apartment in Princeton.<p>

It was Julia who had been calling earlier, she guessed as much, because House was so eager for a real case that, although he still wouldn't have answered at that moment, she thought he probably would have called back as soon as he was able if he thought it was something interesting.

House was out for an extra hour, she had expected that he would be gone much longer. He walked in through the door and she slapped down the lid of her laptop from her spot on the sofa. "Seriously…if you are watching porn without me, I'll be so pissed," he teased, expecting that she was watching some romance flick that he would no doubt mock her for later.

She smiled, stood and walked out to the kitchen, dragging him along and pointing to the food that she picked up. "Thanks," he said.

After he fell asleep, she got up and walked out into the living room, sat down on the sofa, and opened up her laptop. She put on her headset so she could hear, and watched the images flashing before her eyes. House wasn't deeply asleep yet, so, when she moved out of bed, he noticed. He waited to hear the sound of the toilet flushing or water running, or the refrigerator, any of which could precede her return to bed. After waiting a half hour, he got up to see what she was doing.

He made it the whole way to the living room without her hearing, the sounds of his movement masked by the noises coming from her headphones. When he leaned down he saw what she was watching. She jumped, "Fuck, House! You startled me!"

"Why are you out here?"

"I was just watching something"

"I know…I saw. When I asked you to see a picture of Rachel, you never thought to mention that you had some movies of her…ask if I wanted to see them?"

"I didn't think of it"

"You are still trying to handle this all on your own, or is it that you still don't want to share her with me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You always tried to keep distance there."

"Because you didn't want a kid…and don't pull that, later…I did try."

"About half."

"I _did_ try," she countered insistently.

"Part of you still wants her for yourself."

"That…is not true."

"Isn't it? You are still trying to grieve alone…and why?"

"I'm not grieving right now, House."

"Whatever Cuddy, sitting here, in the middle of the night, sneaking home movies…"

"Look at me," she said, calmly, "I am not grieving. I'm just remembering. That's it. I miss her…I will always miss her…but I just wanted to hear her voice. See her. It was a nice memory…it felt…good."

"Sure it did..."

"I'm serious. It did. I miss…hearing the sounds of her. I was able to sit and do that for a few moments…that…is not a bad thing. I hid them because it hurt too badly to watch...to remember. I wasn't hiding them from _you._ I felt ready, and I..don't want to forget her. I was actually _enjoying_ watching her and remembering."

"It sucks even more in that case…I went through everything with you, and then you didn't think to share those better memories with me," he said, his voice both hurt and angry.

"I did want to share them with you…"

"Bullshit. You didn't even mention them."

He walked past her abruptly, "Please," she pleaded loudly, before her voice lowered, "Don't leave. I don't want you to leave angrily like this."

He stopped and turned around to see her expression. "Just getting a drink," he answered, before he walked to the kitchen.

"Sorry," she said tentatively from the doorway.

"I _always_ come back when I go," he stated calmly.

"I know…" she answered, "If you walk out the door…nevermind," she said, trying to smile.

He didn't return her smile. "So why Cuddy…why not show me? It sucks when I thought we had come so far... And if I was hiding something…you'd be furious."

"I wasn't hiding it!"

"If that's true, then explain to me why you didn't tell me, because, it feels an awful lot like hiding…and you did it intentionally."

"I wanted to look through them first," she said

"Letting me half way in?" he scoffed.

"No!" she said, growing frustrated. "I got these out earlier at home, so that I could watch them. I haven't watched them at all since she died and I wanted to show you this week…I thought while we were here…"

"A lovely sentiment. Except it doesn't make any sense at all, since you are out here watching them alone."

She looked down, avoiding his gaze. "I remembered my ex is in one of them," she said, nodding her head. "Just one of them. I thought maybe I could edit it out and then show you."

"I knew you dated Matthew…I met the idiot…or…is it someone else?" he said, his voice concerned that she was about to tell him something he'd regret ever learning.

"It was Matthew. No one else ever even met her."

He stared at her, his eyes conveying his confusion. She met his gaze and said, "I didn't want to throw it in your face. That I brought someone else into Rachel's life. We were doing so well, having so much fun. And…I didn't want to ruin that. I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

He felt so unbelievably baffled. So many people talked about him like he didn't even have feelings, that someone doing something to avoid hurting them felt like an impossible scenario.

"You didn't want to hurt my feelings?"

"Yea. You cared for her...no...you _loved_ her, you told me that…I know it was hard for you to say that. It felt…unnecessarily cruel to have him there… I don't know…"

"Go on," he answered.

"I didn't want him popping up when you were trying to remember Rachel, learn more about her."

"That was…considerate," he said, "Why not just share the other ones then?"

"The last few weren't labeled, I didn't know which was which."

"Were you scared one of them was a sex video?" he asked, sounding jealous.

"No! I'm not! He never slept in my bed. Ever. Not a single time. I admit it, fine, I had sex with him…but I kept him very far away from me. And I definitely wasn't interested in having evidence…"

"Can I see them then…"

"If you want to."

"Why would I be saying this if…nevermind. Yes, Cuddy, I would like to see them."

"I don't know which one Matthew's in."

"I'll be alright. I'm all _growed up._"

"OK," she said, bringing him over to the sofa and sitting him down.

The first one was of Rachel not long before she died. She was at a violin recital. Cuddy was right when she described Rachel's playing as awful. It was also completely endearing. She had the tip of her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth in concentration, her eyes staring at the positions of her fingers. When she bowed her arm would jut back and to the side, so it almost looked like she was dancing the Twist…poorly. The song was squeaky and scratchy, and when it was done, her deeply furrowed brow jumped up, a look of victory spread across her face with emptying of what was probably hours of concern from her little head. Her eyes were wide with happiness and when a huge grin filled the lower portion of her face, he could see a big space where two of her front teeth feel out, one on the top, and one on the bottom. His chest tightened a bit, both with sorrow and a sense of pride, that, even if only for a little while, he was part of that person's life.

He looked over at Cuddy and saw an expression that he assumed mirrored his own. It was so good to see her smiling so broadly when seeing the little girl. Later parts of the same movie, Rachel stalked away from the camera, irritated that she was being recorded like a petulant teenager.

The final video was of her birthday. Cuddy gave her a bicycle, the one he saw in her garage in Baltimore. The last scene on the video, Rachel could be seen heading toward Cuddy holding the camera. He could see Cuddy's narrow fingers reach out to pull her daughter into a hug, but the video did not stop recording. Rachel said softly, "Thanks mom, it's so cool…" Then she whispered, "Love you!"

Cuddy's eyes welled slightly as that movie ended, but she was still smiling. "That's…our girl," Cuddy said, avoiding House's gaze because she was uncertain of the reaction.

He put a hand against her thigh reassuringly.

"I wish you could have been there," she said, with the utmost sincerity.

He nodded, "Yea…so do I."

They watched a few more movies, and House did see Matthew. The first sight of the man made him feel angry. This video was older than the last, and Rachel was smaller. House didn't realize, but the arm that gradually made its around Cuddy while she leaned on his lap, possessively grew a little tighter; she certainly noticed.

Although initially irritated by the interloper, House thoroughly enjoyed what happened next. Matthew tried to hug Rachel, and the little girl retreated in horror. House victoriously raised a hand and pulled it to his chest, "YES!" he hissed.

Cuddy sat up and looked at him, trying to appear disapproving but couldn't hide a chuckle and a grin as she shook her head before kissing his chin.


	78. Chapter 78

**A/N**-_Thank you all for reading and reviewing the first of two chapters I wasn't supposed to be writing this week. All of you who reviewed since the last installment: KiwiClare, LoveMyHouse, JLCH, lenasti16, housebound, TheHouseWitch, jkv97, Bakerstreet Blues, alddi, CaptainK8, SissiCuddles, IHeartHouseCuddy, Lapiz Silkwood, Way Worse Than Scottish, dmarchl, alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, ClareBear14, partypantscuddy, and Boo's House…you guys are awesome…I thank you. _

_Here…is the second of the two chapters I wasn't supposed to be writing this week, because I'm still obsessive and sleepless. Hope you enjoy._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own them_.

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><p>House and Cuddy walked back through the doors of PPTH yet again, almost as if they were fated to end up there together no matter how circuitous the route to the destination. They set up a small office area for Celia along the wall in the conference room. Kate wasn't joining them at that office until the need for a psych consult arose. Their first day lacked both drama, and cases, and consisted of just settling in and preparing for patients to come.<p>

Simpson sent out a letter to surrounding hospitals, and to a few contacts all across the country, informing them of the availability of a 'top-notch diagnostics team' at the hospital. Simpson saw this as the opportunity to bring in a lot of money for the hospital, and make his mark as dean. He received many calls about his announcement, many of them from colleagues asking him if he'd lost his mind. There were a few calls about potential cases though, and his assistant was gathering files and information to present to the team in the morning.

Simpson caught Cuddy in the hall and flippantly mentioned the calls of concern. "I've assured everyone, _Lisa,_" he said with a laugh, "that you have House completely under control."

Cuddy laughed, a counterfeit and patronizing laugh, and said, "Why did you lie to all of the concerned callers, _Ron._"

"We all know that things seem to work best when he has you to keep him in line."

"That isn't my job…I'm not his boss. He can keep himself in line."

"Then…this isn't going to work. Who will make sure things get done correctly? Who will tell him when he's lost his mind? House is always…you know better than anyone…that the man's an absolute lunatic."

"We have a team…a team of good doctors, who will work together to determine the best course of action for each patient. But, I have bad news for you…if you think a procedure's too risky, or think a patient's not receiving the proper treatment, it's on you. If patients complain, it's on you. If a family wants action taken against us, it's you. _You _are the dean."

"You aren't my employees"

"I know, you can choose to allow or deny treatments or procedures, and if you decide that we're a liability, you can kick us out."

Cuddy flashed an insincere smile, and began to walk away, but hesitated in her escape, "Look," she said calmly, "We aren't allies…you and I. Coming to me behind House's back is highly unprofessional. It's time you treat him like the tremendous asset that he is to this hospital…and to your career. If you have an issue to address with our _team _then please, bring it to House and I, we'll decide how to address it. I'm guessing that, since we don't even have a case…we didn't do anything that could be seen as unethical or unnecessarily risky…did we?"

"No," he shook his head, appearing somewhat deflated.

"Great, then have a nice day."

Cuddy marched into the office with a sense of satisfaction at having won the discussion with Simpson. When she walked into the main office, House was clutching his game controller and frantically mashing buttons.

"Come here," House pleaded, "I need help blowing up this spaceship thingie so we can rescue the gorgeous and scantily clad sex goddess he stole from us. Player 2's on the keyboard."

House shoved the keyboard toward her, after he had his game paused, and waited for her to join him.

"Of course," she said incredulously, "I'll be thrilled to help my 'tremendous asset' to the hospital play a game so that a cartoon sex object can dance around on his screen."

"I don't have a case, what else should I be doing?" He looked at her face and saw frustration, "OK, nevermind…" he began before she interrupted.

"Move over," she said, coming over to join him in his game, "You have me for twenty minutes."

* * *

><p>Later that evening, they went to Wilson's for Cuddy's evening with Ann. As soon as they walked in, Cuddy took Adam from Wilson so he could let Ann know it was time to leave. Talking to the baby animatedly, Cuddy said, "Now Adam, since you are the most mature one here, I ask that you please stop your Daddy and Uncle Greg from…"<p>

"Uncle Greg?" House interrupted, "No…I'm not big on that particular moniker."

"Fine," she said to him, turning her attention back to Adam, "keep your Daddy and Uncle House from…"

"Uncle House?" he interrupted again. "No…not that one either."

"What do you want me to have him call you?"

"I'm sure you can come up with something appropriately flattering."

"Sure. Adam, we have to hurry and figure this out…before you begin high school…" she said, scowling at House, "Please, keep your Daddy and Uncle Smart Ass from destroying the place, and ignore all of the sexist and degrading things that the aforementioned Uncle Smart Ass may say from time to time."

House smirked, "Yes, that's perfect. Thanks, Cuddy, I like it. I would also like to mention that _you_ are probably the first person to try to teach the child to cuss. So, when they try to blame me when their two year-old has a foul mouth, you better step up and confess."

She shot him a taunting glare and he said, "My turn."

"Hunh?" she asked with surprise.

"Gimme the runt," he said, gesturing for Adam.

"Seriously?"

"Yes…you got to have your little talk, now I get to have mine."

"You have all night to impart your _wisdom_ upon this poor kid, let me have him for two minutes."

Watching this interaction with the baby, it was clear to House that Cuddy was truly getting better. A few months ago he was certain she never would have held the child, and if she was coerced into doing so, it would have left her sad and defeated, but now she was enjoying her honorary nephew and a bit of banter.

When Ann came into the room she looked at Cuddy, "You ready Lise? Let's go."

Cuddy handed Adam to House, "Hope you remembered your spare shirt, I bobbled him around a bit, so he'll probably puke on you within the next minute or two."

House took the kid and said, while they were still in the room, "Thank _god_ they're finally leaving! Now, your Uncle Smart Ass is probably one of the best guys you'll ever meet, the person you'll have to watch out for is Aunt Perkytits."

Cuddy darted over to House disapprovingly, but couldn't entirely hide her giggle, "Don't teach him that!"

"You taught him 'ass'. Fine. Yelling at me for the swearing's a double standard, but…he can call you whatever you want."

"Aunt Lisa will really be fine," Cuddy nodded with a smirk.

She kissed Adam's forehead and House's cheek, and he whispered, "Later, Aunt Perkytits."

She shook her head and walked to the door to join Ann. As they left she heard House shout, "Wilson, get down here and take the runt, we have man-stuff to teach him."

* * *

><p>Cuddy and Ann went shopping at a few high-end stores that Cuddy knew Ann favored. Ann barely flipped through the items on the racks. She seemed distracted and distant through the first four stores so Cuddy asked, "Are you OK?"<p>

"Oh yea, I'm great," Ann answered in a flat voice.

"Maybe shopping isn't your thing tonight. Do you want to go get something to eat? There's the new French place, I heard that was good, or what's the little Tapas place we used to go to?"

Cuddy tapped her forehead with a few fingers, trying to remember the name of the restaurant, and when she looked up, Ann was covering her face with her hands. "What's wrong?" Cuddy asked with concern, "You having postpartum blues?"

"No, I'm not," Ann said stiffly, lowering her hands from her face.

Cuddy assumed Ann was crying, but when she lowered her hands, there were no tears.

"What is it?" Cuddy asked.

"Nothing. Let's just go eat, OK?"

"Sure," Cuddy answered.

They sat at the restaurant, Ann still not answering, or barely answering, questions. Cuddy determinedly placed her fork down next to her plate and said, "OK, I give up. I can't tell what's going on, so would you just tell me. You are never like this. Should I tell Wilson to be worried? Because right now, that's what I'm thinking."

"No," Ann replied, her stiffness abating slightly. "Look…it's just..." Ann stopped, appearing to be searching her thoughts. "My baby…he hates me."

"He hates you? He's an infant…what are you basing this on?"

"Basing this on the shit that happens every day. I'm holding him and he is crying and screaming and fussy. And fucking _James_ comes in," Ann said, all but spitting Wilson's name, "and he stops crying…right away. I'm the one who's there all damn day. _I_ feed the baby, change him at least three-quarters of the time, hold him, walk him up and down the halls half the night, rock him, and…he hates me."

Cuddy smiled sympathetically, "Your baby doesn't hate you."

"Why are you smiling?" Ann asked angrily.

"Because…I remember. I remember feeling the exact same way."

"Would your daughter stop crying for House?"

"Oh…oh no," Cuddy said, shaking her head, "House wasn't around Rachel when she was a baby. I just remember thinking that I wasn't a good mom…that…Rachel wanted to be with someone else. She would cry a lot, all babies do…"

"That's fine…if all babies cry, then why does he get all silent and calm when James shows up?"

"Well, they say that babies know when you're tense. If you've been watching him all day, or most of it, you are probably stressed. Particularly if you're waking up at night…you are tired, and now you are concerned that you aren't bonding with him…you are really, really stressed out. Sometimes someone who's fresh…less tired, and more relaxed…can be soothing."

Ann looked at her and saw the sincerity and felt that Cuddy wasn't just telling her something to appease her. "OK," Ann said, "then what do you suggest? What did you do?"

"For me, it was more of a bonding issue, but, it was more my fault than Rachel's. I started interacting with her…as a…little tiny human. For you…maybe get James or someone in your family to watch him more often…and when they do, leave the house, go out. When are you going back to work?"

When Cuddy asked that question, Ann began to cry. It wasn't a gentle sniffle, it was an all-out sob, as pent-up, tightly controlled tears finally burst through the dam. "Is it so awful that I want to go back…trust me, I want to go back. Right. Now."

Cuddy smiled, "I don't think it's _awful_. You have been a career woman for a long time…it's safe. Familiar. You know you are successful there. A little time away from home is good. Once you are there…you'll probably miss him. But…I think if you get some more support, you'll be able to actually _enjoy_ the time you are with him more…bond as a Mom, not just as primary caregiver…it makes a difference. Trust me, Wilson will help. Just tell him what you want. I'm guessing you're trying to do everything on your own, be…supermom…whether you realize it or not."

Cuddy put her hand on her friend's wrist. "Are you gonna be OK?" she asked.

"Yea. I love my baby, it's just…so much work. I had these visions of James and I, hanging out on the sofa relaxing, and dinners with high chairs and candles, and having the nanny bring him by while I'm on my lunch break at work…and…it isn't like that."

Cuddy nodded, "Dinners with candles will come. I know…it's a lot more work than what you think. And believe me, I still remember so well…it was nothing like what I had envisioned. What I _can_ tell you is, even though it is really, unbelievably difficult on some days, the days that are good are so much better than you imagined too…give it time." Cuddy picked up her fork and speared an olive, "Oh, and seriously, woman, get some help…believe it or not, all of those people who offered to babysit…at least half of them actually want to…find the genuine half."

Ann's posture seemed a little less weighted. "Sometimes too, it might be nice to see your husband without all of the interference. Go out for dinner…have a date night."

"Will you…watch him? Once in a while?" Ann asked hesitantly.

Cuddy chewed slowly. After a moment she answered. "Yea…I can," she said with a hint of realization in her voice when she noticed that she really felt ready. She was fully able to see the possibility of spending time with a child as something that could be fun.

"Great," Ann said, "Maybe some night we'll call you."

"OK," Cuddy replied.

"So wait," Ann said, "I thought you dated House before Matthew."

"Yea, I did."

"But I thought you had Rachel when you dated House."

"Yup," Cuddy answered, "Why?"

"He…didn't _ever_ help with her."

"Oh he did some times. He wasn't there when she was a baby…apart from professionally…and this…crazy little game of should-we-shouldn't-we that we used to play. I was pretty much by myself…romantically. I had help from family. Wilson was really very supportive. House and I dated while she was a toddler."

"Did he change diapers?" Ann asked, completely intrigued.

"A few," Cuddy answered. "She was nearing the end of the diaper phase by then...and we didn't even live together…"

"Funny to imagine House changing a diaper."

Cuddy smiled, reminiscing. "I guess. He's pretty resourceful. If something needs done…he can usually figure out how do it. Unless he thinks it's stupid, in which case he doesn't usually waste any brain power on it…but…basic baby needs are pretty well documented truths," she added, smiling and playing with her food with her fork as she looked down.

"You are really quite smitten," Ann observed, "it's kind of weird, I'd think you two would be so used to each other that you wouldn't be that way this time around."

"We weren't ever this way the first time around," Cuddy added, "which…was probably part of the problem. But…it doesn't matter," she said, quickly changing the subject, "You need someone to babysit, just call, I can help out. If House is there, I'm sure he won't mind."

"So, what about you then…you guys gonna have kids?"

Cuddy rubbed her forehead with her fingertips, her mood suddenly much more tense.

"I'm sorry," Ann said, "Looks like I shouldn't have asked."

"No," Cuddy said, "it's just…"

"Do you think he doesn't want them?" Ann asked.

"I _know_ he doesn't want them."

"Did you ask? As in...actually bring it up."

"Not a good idea."

"Why not? You guys seem like you can kind of…talk about stuff…"

"We can."

"So…talk to him. Unless _you_ don't want kids."

"You remind me of how difficult it is to be a parent and then you try to talk me into having more?"

"You said it was more rewarding than you thought it would be too. Sounded to me like you might be interested."

"I…I don't have the best luck with pregnancy."

"So, see a specialist."

"No, I can't…there's a lot of history here…" Cuddy said.

"So just see what he wants first…and then see what you want to do."

"If I can't?"

"What? Why are you so concerned about this?"

"Because it's really fucking painful, and right now, House doesn't want a kid. So if I get him to agree to it, it will be a sacrifice he's making so that I can be happy…I don't want him to agree to something like that to make _me_ happy. It's not fair to him…or to us. Or, I get him to agree to it, and while he's thinking about it, it becomes something that he _actually_ wants, and then if I can't be part of that…he'll realize that he ended up with someone defective, and that he can't have what he wants, and that he made a really big fucking mistake marrying me…" Cuddy said, finally, and somewhat angrily, letting go of a great deal of pent up fear and concern.

Ann's mouth was slightly agape at the sudden flourish of insecurity and concern. Cuddy smiled at her stiffly, "But…" she continued, holding her hands up to signal the end of the topic. "Enough about that. I'm good with how things are…back to you and your son."

* * *

><p>Wilson was tired. The night before, his wife, out of exhaustion, woke him up. Wilson, it seemed, could sleep through anything. At 1:17, Ann came into the bedroom, woke him, put their son down next to him, and left their room for the quiet, unoccupied guest room. Wilson sat in the recliner in the corner of the master bedroom, feet propped up, and spoke to Adam. Wilson told him stories in a caring, soothing voice, with the young infant happily cooing his way back to sleep by 1:37.<p>

At 2:00, Wilson thought he was perhaps the best father in the entire world.

He rock-walked his way to the nursery, and placed his son lovingly into his crib minutes later. All of the safety warnings heeded, Wilson went back to bed and pulled his covers up around himself, closing his eyes, and awaiting sleep. At 2:28, Adam began to whimper, and in mere seconds was awake and furious.

By 3:00, Wilson thought he was perhaps the worst father in the entire world.

House chuckled at his friend's obvious sleep deprivation. "Go sleep for an hour or two. I have everything with junior under control."

"Oh yea," Wilson yawned, "Like I'm going to trust you with my infant son."

"Totally forgot to mention this to you in all of our years of friendship. I'm actually a trained medical doctor!" House exclaimed. His voice became serious, "I know how to watch a baby for a few hours. Just go."

"Medicine does not prepare you for _actually_ caring for a baby."

"Perhaps not, but I've read tons of parenting books."

"You have?"

"Well…I've read some. "

"Why?"

"Same as reading religious texts or self-help books…it's good to know what people think they are doing to help themselves and their loved ones…because it's often what's killing them."

Wilson nodded and leaned down into the chair, "Still not leaving you alone with my only child."

"Fine," House said, "Then I'll make us coffee so you can at least play a decent game of poker."

After the coffee was ready, they drank a few cups together, and moments later, Wilson was passed out in his recliner.

* * *

><p>When Cuddy and Ann walked in, Adam was propped up in a bouncy seat on the poker table, kicking his legs. House made a baby "cigar" by attaching rolled brown paper to a pacifier and drew an exotic beer label directly on the plastic of the child's bottle. House was explaining the rules of poker to the baby, who was staring, wide-eyed, at him. Wilson was still sleeping on the recliner.<p>

"You drugged him?" Ann asked.

"Of course not," House answered.

"He says you used to drug him."

"I did. I'm a new man."

"Not that new," Ann replied, her tone much lighter.

When Ann left the room Cuddy said. "Did you drug him?"

House slid the pink pills across the table to her, still inside the foil and plastic bubble packaging. "I didn't, but…I wanted to...I was planning on it. He fell asleep before I could. Just Benadryl…is that _really_ even a drug? The man needed to shut up, stop bothering me, and get some damn sleep, and he needed a tiny little push. He was acting like I had a diabolical plan to ruin his little hope for the future, so he had to stay awake like some lumbering defender of innocence."

"Benadryl is still technically a drug," she stated, as a casual observation. "The baby looks happy…"

"He does look happy when he's sleeping all peacefully like that doesn't he?" House said, pointing at Wilson.

"I meant Adam."

"Oh, yea, him. Yea, he's fine. I…am a fantastic baby sitter. It was the big baby who was grouchy."

"Come on, Mary Poppins, let's get some sleep…work comes early tomorrow."


	79. Chapter 79

**A/N**_-Thank you so much to all of those who have reviewed since the last installment-Boo's House, IHeartHouseCuddy, JLCH, lenasti16, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, partypantscuddy, dmarchl, Cookie, yahnis, Bakerstreet Blues, viclupa, bonneiyy77, ClareBear14, iridescentZEN, TheHouseWitch, CaptainK8, Suzieqlondon, KiwiClare, jkv97, IWuvHouse, MonFogel, newdayz and grouchysnarky_

_This piece of the story's going to go across the next few chapters. I don't expect that I'll be able to update until Monday…but then again, I've been a lying liar before._

**Disclaimer**-_Don't own them_

* * *

><p>Cuddy walked into the office after getting coffee, and found Wilson and House staring at her with identical forced smiles. "Hey," Wilson said as if reading a script, "Thanks for talking to Ann, she seems to feel a lot better. How are you today?"<p>

She placed a coffee down in front of House hard enough that a small amount splashed out of the lid from the opening used to drink the beverage. She took a step back, and looked back and forth between the two men. After seeing their similar expressions, she walked over to Wilson. "Thank you for reminding me of why I should never trust you…and for introducing me to the fact that I shouldn't trust your wife either."

"What?" Wilson asked emphatically, "Seriously, what are you talking abo…" He stopped and avoided her gaze, "We are just trying to help. I want you to be...happy. How did you know?"

Chase energetically walked in, "Forget the files Simpson's bringing. I have a case that's better than anything else he'll find."

Cuddy took one of the files and walked into the conference room, looking through the file, tension coating her every move. The remainder of the team joined her at the table.

"19 month-old white male, Jonathan Girard," Chase began. "Was first admitted four months ago with persistent stomach issues and dehydration. Pediatrician found ulcers in the GI tract, treated for an h. pylori infection with antibiotics. Symptoms did not improve, they put him on a modified diet."

"The diet didn't help either," Cuddy added while flipping through the file.

"Nope. While in the hospital, symptoms improved a bit, all tests came back fine. Although symptoms improved, the child seemed distant from loved ones. After the family took the child home, mood improved, but GI issues worsened. Last night…child began with seizures," Chase explained.

"Encephalitis? Head Trauma?" Cuddy asked.

"No inflammation, no light sensitivity and no evidence of trauma," Chase responded.

"Brain tumor?" Wilson suggested.

"No evidence of cancer in any of the blood work, nothing on the scans. Now, they also believe that the child is suffering from additional psychological issues…hallucinations," Chase said.

"Possibly environmental, maybe pesticides or other chemical exposure...but tox came back clean," Cuddy added.

"Febrile seizures, brought on by the same infection that caused the gastroenteritis that we're thinking is something more," House said calmly, "A hidden infection that's leaving him susceptible to gastroenteritis. Treat the infection, treat the symptoms of the gastroenteritis, and watch the child get better."

"And the hallucinations?" Chase asked.

"The kid's not even two…are they sure it's hallucinations and not play time? Call Kate, have her come in and talk to the kid. They're probably unrelated…or just a symptom of extreme dehydration."

"He's not dehydrated _now_, he's been on IV fluids since he got here," Chase answered.

"That's why I told you to call Kate, see if she thinks there are other underlying issues. Treat with antibiotics for the _infection, _let her decide if he has additional psych issues that are unrelated to the case," House responded curtly.

"You want the shrink to check out a 19 month-old?" Chase asked.

"Yup," House said decisively.

Chase and Wilson left the room, the irritation emanating from Cuddy permeating the air.

"So…" House said moving a seat closer to Cuddy, "You want to tell me what's going on directly, or should I assume that Ann, telling Wilson, telling me, is the correct version."

She stared down at the file. "You know that they don't know when to stay out of things that aren't their business," she said through a clenched jaw.

"That is very true," he nodded, sitting a bit too close for her liking. She felt as if he could always sense exactly how she felt if he could get close enough to her. "But, even though they were meddling…it probably doesn't change what you said to her. Why not tell me directly? We agreed we wouldn't make assumptions about what the other one wants…are you making assumptions?"

"No," she said with a clenched jaw and tight posture, "We probably shouldn't talk about this here."

He touched her arm at the elbow, urging her to stand and directing her toward the balcony. Once they were outside, she stood next to the cement railing facing the office door, arms tightly crossed. He leaned on the cement wall next to her, facing her and supporting some of his weight on his elbow. He waited for her to speak, certain that she remembered his question.

"I didn't make assumptions," she continued, "I took observations made during decades of knowing you, as well as lacing together things that you have said directly, to arrive at what I already know to be true."

"At one time, I would have chosen Vicodin over a relationship, actually I would have chosen Vicodin over almost anything. I would have chosen steak over chicken whenever given the option, and I never would have agreed to go alcohol-free during the week. Seems like, perhaps, the things you have gathered as evidence supporting your belief may be slightly outdated. It's like doing research using a ten year old encyclopedia…your paper on the _planet_ Pluto may not get you the 'A' you were looking for."

"You also still hate pickles, but love puzzles and motorcycles…I didn't have to ask about how you felt about those things. A lot of things really don't change. You know of at least some of my issues with this, I'm _not_ blaming you. I'm saying that it's a combination of the fact that you don't really want kids, and that I probably can't have them. The meeting of these two conditions sort of rules out the possibility…makes our decisions easier."

"You don't know either of those things to be fact. In both cases you've taken random pieces of unrelated evidence and pieced them together to arrive at a conclusion."

"This isn't the time to discuss this."

"I know you aren't used to the diagnostics' team schedule…let me help you adjust to how we do things. We are in the 'waiting and seeing' portion of the case…we have nothing else to do right now."

She sighed and turned to face him, leaning against the wall, and mirroring his posture. "House," she said with sincerity, "I know you said you'd do it for me…that's not a sacrifice I want you to make. I don't want you to make that sort of life decision for me. I'm fine. That's a big sacrifice to make in the name of making me happy."

"You were willing to get the bike to make me happy…and I know that it was a sacrifice for you…I know you don't think it's safe and I know you worry, and you have dealt with your own feelings about it in order to give me something to make me happy."

"Not the same thing. The bike won't wake us up at 3am, or break curfew, or ask for help with its homework."

"It may," he joked. "It's similar in principle. I don't get why you would tell a member of the Wilson clan, with their willing and open ears, and notoriously loose lips, something that you wouldn't tell me. I listen…I don't betray your confidence, and I'm a hell of a lot better about my reactions to things than I used to be."

"I don't know that I knew exactly how I felt. I knew some of it…some of how I felt. I didn't realize all of it until I was talking and it just sort of…came out of my mouth. I wasn't intentionally hiding anything from you. And I do think things are good right now, exactly as they are…and _that_…_that_ would definitely change things."

"Sometimes, shaking things up…is a good thing."

"I do not want to go back to procedures, injections and laboratories. I don't want to revisit that again."

"I know…it's not what I was suggesting. I think we should figure this out the only way we can."

"Come on guys, this…is not and infection and gastroenteritis!" Chase said as he burst through the door to the balcony. "The patient just had a heart attack."

* * *

><p>House, Cuddy and Chase walked down to the patient's room. Standing outside of the room in the ICU, were two tearful and frightened young parents. The father had an arm wrapped tightly around the mother, likely as much for his own comfort as for hers, as they gazed through the glass at their sick and suffering child.<p>

Cuddy and Chase conducted their own exam of the boy, carefully observing, and making fastidious notes on the health of the child. Jonathan was tiny, frail from months of sickness. His eyes were glazed and almost affectless. Overall, he was blank, disconnected, and disinterested. The child was born healthy, strong, even big for his age, until he became sick. He was seen at all of his regular checkups, and deemed healthy until after his first birthday when problems began to arise.

The once healthy child was, at that point, sickly and emaciated, his smile long forgotten and replaced with confusion, sadness and surrender. His deep brown eyes no longer lit up at the sight of anything, not even his parents, his life virtually devoid of pleasure. The look of a child as young as Jonathan, who had given up the fight for survival, was a sight few doctors were ever _really_ prepared to see.

Kate had just arrived in Princeton and joined the others who stood outside of the room looking in through the glass windows at the child and his parents. "Let's do an EKG and an Echo. Check for cancer again, because if there are very small tumors, or a piece of a tumor that has broken off…it can go through the blood stream, causing the blockage in the heart and the heart attack. The cancer's causing the nausea, which is causing dehydration and seizures. Or…it's amyloidosis. Heart, GI problems, it all fits. Chase, run the tests…Vega…do a psych work up," House said, pointing to Kate, who was confused by his sudden use of her surname.

When House and Cuddy left, Kate looked at Chase questioning, "Did…I do something wrong that I'm not aware of?"

"Don't…think so…why?" Chase hesitantly answered.

"Vega? He never calls me that."

Chase looked at Kate and bounced his shoulder off of hers, "Guess he considers you a real doctor now…"

* * *

><p>House was standing on the balcony when Cuddy returned to the office. She thought about ignoring the fact that he was out there, and that there was an interrupted discussion that they needed to finish, but she was as determined as he was to avoid the mistakes of the past.<p>

"Hey," she said, poking her head out through the door.

"Hey," he replied, turning around to face her, and leaning back against the balcony wall.

"That boy…Jonathan…I hope we can help him," Cuddy said as she walked out onto the balcony.

"It's amyloidosis," House answered.

"The results came in?"

"No…but that's what it is."

She flashed a smile at him. "So…what is it…that you think we should do?"

He wiggled a finger to signal for her to approach him and he continued the motion until she was standing directly in front of him. "Well…I think you should stop putting all of those…nasty chemicals between us…get rid of the pill…and have…an unbelievable amount of sex with me."

"I think I already do that," she said with a small, quick smile.

"Right, but I actually mean…more than the usual amount," he grinned flirtatiously for a moment before his expression became serious. "We won't involve specialists, tests or injections…you, me…doing what we already do well…to see if…if something _happens_. If it works…it works. If it doesn't, then we just decide it wasn't possible for _us. _Of course, that shouldn't stop us from steadfastly trying for decades after that…"

She smiled at his attempt at levity. "No specialists and no tests?"

"None, and no mothers or friends butting in…we keep this all between us, no expectations, no pressure."

"What if we aren't ready?"

"We…are kind of old, Cuddy. This is sort of time sensitive."

"I know."

"I am ready…I can be a good dad…at least…I think I can…I know I'll try…really hard."

"You think I'm hesitating because I don't think you'd be a good father?" she asked, astounded at the suggestion.

"Of course…who would blame you?"

"Congratulations, House…after all of the stunts you have pulled, and craziness you've indulged in…that…is the _stupidest_ thing you have ever said," she replied, her tone reassuring. "I _know_ you'd be a great father. I'm certain of it."

"Yea, I'm sure," he answered sarcastically.

"I'm not being facetious and…_I'm_ not the only one still making assumptions. I really _do_ know you'd be a wonderful father. It _wasn't_ a case of whether or not you'd be good enough! It was whether or not you wanted to be one at all." She cupped his face in her hand.

Sometimes her trust in him was still confusing and he still often felt unworthy of her admiration. He could see in her expression that she wasn't filled with fear about him abandoning a child, or being abusive, or even just being emotionally absent. He had always assumed Cuddy feared all of those things from him. If she did in the past, she clearly didn't feel that way any longer.

"Thanks," he whispered, using a gravelly unwarmed voice.

"We can think about it later. OK?"

"I'm thinking about it now," he said softly.

"OK, good," she answered, her voice shaking as his hand reached out to rest on her waist at the narrowest spot. "Then…" she hesitated as she felt the warmth of his hand through her blouse, "We can discuss it in a few days…or a week."

"I need to think about it right now," he insisted.

He turned them around so that she was leaning against the wall in the corner. His hand went to her flat abdomen, and he pressed his palm against her. "Thinking about you, having a tiny little curve right here…when we first notice that you are showing…when we're the only ones who will know what's going on."

"You know that _if_ we decide to do this and _if_ it works, I won't have the body you seem to enjoy so much anymore."

He had a small grin playing along his face, ignoring what she was saying and rubbing his thumb lovingly across her abdomen until his hand travelled to her hip. "And these sexy fucking hips…" he said with deep admiration, "are gonna look even more amazing when they get a little rounder…curvier…"

"You want me to have fatter hips?" she asked, her face expressing her disgust.

"I would like it if your curves rounded out just a bit…you know as well as I do that you're far too much of a health freak to let it get out of control. But…anyway, I could run my hands along these perfectly curved hips...fatter ass," he said, one hand following the curve of a hip over her waist and travelling to the side of her breast. "And these…" he added, "as perfect as these are already…I'd never be one to complain if they'd grow a size or two… I'll nestle myself between them every night…I could learn your body all over again every few weeks as it changes. Learn the new things you might like as these changes occur. Learn the best ways to build your desire, the perfect way to touch you so you scream my name when you come and you thighs quiver against me because you can't control your body's reaction to me once I get you to that point."

His hand curled under her breast, his thumb running over the nipple, bringing it to a peak. Her eyes were growing heavy, the way they always did when he was touching her, often just because he was near her, and she knew what he was thinking. She shook her head to return to reality. "We're at the hospital," she managed to say.

"No one can see through me…besides, we're just having a discussion."

"We aren't _just_ having a discussion," she said, feeling the betrayal in her body that was so familiar it was almost rote.

"I promise I won't knock you up out here on the balcony…at least not today. You have to stop taking your pills first," he smiled. His hand was gliding along her body while looking into her eyes.

"You are glamorizing this."

"No, I'm not, I'm just naturally opportunistic _and_ optimistic…you know how I always like to find the bright side…don't you?" he said with a smirk.

"Yes…that's exactly what I was thinking."

"You know I'm always looking for an excuse to explore your body…and those pregnancy hormones…I think they may play right into my hands. I've heard tales of women so overtaken with hormones that they use their men up trying to sate their unquenchable desires…"

"_Did_ you hear that?"

"It's well-documented. I really love to be objectified. Feel free to reduce me to a human playground and use me to sate your unquenchable desires. Regardless of what happens, that should become part of our lifestyle," he smiled.

They both cringed when they felt their phones vibrating in their pockets simultaneously. It couldn't be a good sign.


	80. Chapter 80

**A/N-**_Hey all, I'm back home now. Thanks so much for reading, thank you so much to the reviewers: IHeartHouseCuddy, JLCH, partypantscuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, lenasti16, newsession, CaptainK8, KiwiClare, newdayz, LiaHuddy, hpMarauder4Life, dmarchl, housebound, ClareBear14, iridescentZEN, Truth, IWuvHouse, Mon Fogel, Abby, HuddyGirl, Anonymous (times two), yahnis, NewGirlJess, LoveMyHouse, LapizSilkwood, and jkv97; you guys are so wonderfully supportive, it means so much more than you know!_

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD. This one's adult and marked._

* * *

><p>"The child had a brief period of alertness…even…happiness…I thought he was snapping out of it…then, high BP…extremely high BP. Patient crashed," Chase said from the child's bedside when House and Cuddy came through the door. "Stable…for now."<p>

The parents were unceremoniously forced from the room to give the doctors and nurses space to work with the patient when he initially crashed, and they were still nervously waiting outside of the room to be reunited with their son. Chase stepped away after several moments, directing the parents back into the room with the child, and meeting House and Cuddy in the hallway. Kate was staring into the room, leaning with one hand pressed against the glass. "I was doing my evaluation when he crashed. I've never seen a patient turn so hard and so fast without some sort of…precipitating event," she said somberly.

"Did you see anything during your eval?" House asked her.

"The child is apathetic, probably depressed, although, I wouldn't really consider either of those things particularly odd for a child who has had so many health issues. Poor kid's in the hospital more than he's out of it. I was speaking to the parents when he crashed. There are obvious developmental deficits at this time, I had trouble getting him to engage me at all. He seemed fine, or at least stable, I handed him to his father, I wanted to observe their interactions…or lack thereof. He was completely disengaged from the father. Handed him to his mother…he was definitely more interested in her, but there still was not really an emotional connection between them. He was with her for a few minutes, while I was talking to them. He suddenly became happy, laughing, I'm guessing it was a gelastic seizure, because the behavior hit fast…from apathy to almost…hysterical laughter in an instant. After that…he crashed. Psychologically speaking, it doesn't sound like there were any events or occurrences that would cause him to go from being an emotionally healthy child to one that's so…broken. They showed me pictures…he used to be a normal one-year old. According to the parents…the only thing that changed was him getting sick. Whatever's going on…doesn't seem psychologically based to me. I think the psych issues are all the result of whatever's going on with him physically."

"Forget the antibiotics," House stated, "begin steroids for amyloidosis. It's what fits. Seizures are just the byproducts of all of the other problems the patient's having. His body's systematically failing."

Chase turned and looked at Cuddy, waiting for a refusal or argument. Cuddy ignored Chase's anticipation of an answer and said, "Ulcers have perforated," as she pointed into the room to the child, who was vomiting blood.

She hurried into the room with Kate and Chase to help the mother, as House watched the scene from the outside. After several moments, the three doctors emerged. "Want to do an EGD also? Get a good look, and try to stop the bleeding? At least…treat the symptom…" Cuddy suggested to House.

"Yea," he agreed, "Chase, do the EGD and start him on the steroids for amyloidosis…now. Let's give it 24 hours. See what happens."

House and Cuddy re-entered the waiting and seeing phase of diagnostics again. When it sounded as if the child was doing well, Cuddy left for the cafeteria to get them dinner. Wilson slipped next to her in line. "Hey there," he said in a friendly tone. "You're upset…aren't you?"

Cuddy shook her head with disbelief. "Not sure how to answer you."

"The truth would work," he replied, as he selected a pre-made sandwich from the cafeteria line and placed it on his tray.

"You taking notes? How about I call House on my phone, and just let him listen to our entire conversation…that way, instead of him hearing from _you_ whatever I say…he can listen in directly…then you don't have to be bothered with _remembering_ and _repeating_, and then I won't have to clarify your interpretation of events again a few minutes later…it gets repetitive for all of us, ya know?" she answered with a sarcastic bite.

She paid for her meals, forcing a smile for the cashier, and taking a few steps away, while Wilson paid for his own. He left the end of the line, and corralled her over to a booth, taking her tray from her hands and placing it on the table. "Give me five minutes before you leave?" he requested.

He sat down, and gestured for her to do the same, but she stood next to the table, tapping her foot expectantly. "OK," he said, realizing that she was more frustrated than he had anticipated. "Look, House wasn't asking for information or a report or anything…"

"Oh, I know! I wasn't even considering that," she answered with frustration. "He has plenty of ways of finding out things that _don't_ involve you telling him. I never doubted that your involvement in this came completely from you and your wife."

"Good," Wilson answered, "Well…not _good,_ but I don't want to cause trouble between the two of you."

"You won't."

"Honestly, Cuddy, I want you to be happy…I want you both to be happy…and sometimes you two don't communicate well."

"We are communicating very well. You are going to have to trust us to handle this relationship on our own, Wilson!" she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Believe me, I know you think you're helping, but House and I have worked to build trust with each other. We are trying to have something that can actually work without a middle man…and you need to let us do that without interfering."

"OK," he answered, "sometimes you need a facilitator to push you into these conversations."

"I'm asking you to cut the cord…allow us to do things on our own, Wilson. You and Ann took something that I mentioned in a very specific context and blabbed it…to each other, and then to House."

"But…because of that…maybe you can be happy…start over again as a parent."

"I'm already happy."

He smiled before asking eagerly, "So…did you guys talk about it? Are you going to give it a try?"

"Wilson, if I were already pregnant…I wouldn't tell you. If I had news as mundane as House and I getting a goldfish, or as groundbreaking as the two of us working with an alien race to conceive an alien-human-hybrid child…I wouldn't tell you."

"You'll thank me…" he pointed at her.

"See ya, Wilson," she said, as she walked away.

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

After a few uneventful hours for their patient, House and Cuddy went back to his apartment to rest. House fell asleep with relative ease. He had waited patiently in bed for Cuddy for quite some time. While she showered. While she spoke to her accountant on the phone. While she did something with the items in the lower set of cupboards in his kitchen.

He had the impression that he was being avoided, and decided not to push her after their earlier discussion, and her relatively calm receptivity to his suggestions. As he waited for her, and pondered the case, head propped up with a few pillows on his bed, his hands folded low on his chest, and he drifted to sleep.

Cuddy shook his arm around 3am. "Wake up!" she pleaded.

"Is it bad?" he asked, trying to comprehend her mumblings.

"Bad? Is what bad?"

"The patient!" he said, the word 'obviously' implied at the end of his answer.

"I didn't hear anything, I'm assuming nothing's changed."

Once he heard there was no new information about the patient, he closed his eyes, and his breathing pattern quickly returned to a deeper, slower cadence.

She tried a few times to wake him up, without making it _look_ like she was trying to wake him, with no success. After all of the times that the bastard was awake at such an hour, he was clinging to sleep resolutely when she needed him to break the stony silence in the room. Cuddy couldn't stand the quiet any longer, a night so noiseless that she could hear her thoughts echoing in her head. She kept picturing the sick child awaiting a cure, the nervous parents waiting at his bedside, and the approaching heartache that she thought there would be when she was unable to conceive a child. These thoughts cycled and danced in her head, welcoming waves of anxiousness and discomfort.

She climbed over him, less than gracefully, pleased that he wasn't awake at that exact moment to watch her tumble over him. She lifted his arm, moved it to her back, and pressed herself against him, running her fingers along his sides and back beneath his paper thin, over-worn tee.

He seldom slept that deeply, and she knew she should allow him a good night's rest, but the insecurities and worries that crept in during the dark hours of the night left her needing his alert presence in a way that she seldom did. She scooted down the bed lower, deciding to bypass niceties in favor of guaranteeing that he'd wake up.

He vaguely remembered her waking him and telling him that the patient was alright. He barely remembered her wiggling up against him, kissing his jawline and neck and wrapping his arm around her, all of which felt nice enough, but certainly not nice enough to break through the haze of a deep sleep. He sort of thought he felt her pushing his pajamas and tee shirt out of the way. What he remembered with absolute clarity, was coming to full alertness to the feeling of her lips, tongue and mouth on him, bringing both his body and mind to arousal.

His eyes fluttered opened and he faced the clock, the significance of the numbers on it completely lost to his otherwise occupied mind. One of her hands was slipping up and along the skin of his abdomen and across his chest, the other pressing insistently on the flesh between his growing erection and his hip. Her mouth was warm and soft, except for the occasional, pleasant sensation of her teeth skimming along the sensitive skin there.

His one hand moved beneath her hair to her neck, at the base of her skull, urging her to continue, letting her know that he was there, in the moment, awake and enjoying every sensation: her tongue sliding along the underside of his erection, her lips creating the perfect pressure and suction, her fingers resting and pressing along his hips and pelvis. He started to crave the feeling of more than just her touching him, the desire to feel her, touch her, have full access to the one he desired for so long, overpowering his desire to passively await the resolution of the building tension.

He tried to urge her upwards and she playfully slapped away his hands. He tried to flip her around, so he could, at the very least, taste her, and she wiggled away. Assuming they were playing a game of control and avoidance, he sat up, somewhat reluctantly pushing her away, the soft popping sound when her lips let go of him a further turn on, and pulled her up onto his torso.

He kissed her demandingly and moved his hand along her thigh to her wetness, eager to feel how excited she was when she moved beyond his reach. "Just relax and enjoy this…it's OK to do that once in a while," she said, and he could hear the smirk in her voice.

"There are plenty of times I'm willing to just relax and enjoy things. I did yesterday, and few days before that, but right now, I want more."

It certainly wasn't that he didn't appreciate what she was doing, Cuddy's enthusiasm and innate enjoyment of the act usually made it even better than the ordinary, run of the mill blow job. There was just something about the two of them that all too often made him yearn for more contact. Something that made him want to bury himself so deeply inside of her that he'd forget they were ever apart.

"I'm not in the mood."

He roughly pinned her pelvis to his torso, refusing to let her move. "You woke me up that way…to tell me you aren't in the mood?"

"No," she said, bending at the waist so her mouth could reach his neck and shoulders. "Meeting the contractual obligations of our marriage," she said with a chuckle, "it's not my fault you woke up while I was meeting my quota."

"You…doing _that _is pretty much a guaranteed wake up call. Better than a whining alarm clock any day."

She lifted his hands from her side and pressed them to his chest. His voice almost chuckled at her attempt to overpower him. "You trying to man-handle me?" he asked, amused.

"Just let me have my fun," she said, her words eliciting a twitch of anticipation from him.

"You aren't in the mood, huh?" he asked, one of his hands slipping out from her grasp easily, and holding her smaller hands to his chest, the other pushing her nightie up along her body, and then moving to the place between his stomach and her legs, eager to feel her responsiveness to their activities. When his probing fingers did not find the arousal he expected, he looked at her suspiciously, "What's wrong?" His mind ran through the memories of the previous hours before sleep, trying to recall if there was anything he did that may have hurt or angered her.

"Nothing's wrong!"

"OK, so you wake me up for sex, but you aren't interested, which means you wanted to wake me up for something else."

She sighed, "It isn't going to work for us…a…kid…"

"OK," he answered evenly, and then, without missing a beat, he tried to kiss her.

"OK?"

"Yup."

"Wait, why 'OK'?"

"Because…I'm really fucking hard, and I thought we could both try to enjoy that, rather than just sitting here, waiting until it's a source of discomfort for me," he said, sitting upright, slipping his arms beneath her knees, and grabbing her ass in his palms.

He saw the look on her face and placed a few kisses along her cheekbone and back toward her ear and neck. "You…are scared…" he whispered, despite the fact that they were in his apartment alone, "If you really thought it was impossible, you wouldn't be on the pill. We can't control this…it's pointless to try, and yes, I'm including myself in that. There's no solving…there's no controlling, masterminding or orchestrating. We both have to be remarkably un-us. Now…stop thinking…please."

He sat back pulling her hips toward his face. "Not tonight…" she replied, "I said I'm not in the mood."

"I'm working on that," he answered with a quick smile before positioning her over his mouth.

His fingertips were slipping up both sides of her back, and sliding down along her spine in a gently insistent way. He kissed his way closer to her center, with seasoned patience, waiting for her to begin anticipating the next move, surrendering to the possibilities rather than committing to disinterest. When his tongue parted her and slid persistently along the most sensitive parts, he could feel her breathe out her resistance, and begin to give in to the pleasure he was providing.

When he could feel her body succumbing to his attention and becoming aroused, he scooted her further up, reaching his tongue inside her and feeling her lower body start to move in a more desirous way. He built her up, slowly at first, looking over her body from beneath her, always enjoying the way she looked when she was straddling his face, her body above him and available for his eyes and hands to play over however he wanted. She quickly tugged her nightgown over her head and flung it from her body.

He could feel the muscles of one of her thighs shake slightly against the rough skin of his cheek. "Oh my god…" she breathed out, wanting to tell him how good she was feeling, how much she enjoyed having almost any part of him doing anything to that part of her, but only able to formulate the automatic words she spoke.

He thought she was perfect like that, losing control, growing desperate for him. Her desire for him would always be baffling, at least as far as he was concerned, but he loved witnessing the proof of it every time he was given the opportunity. One hand reached up to grab her breast, not at all gently, while the other moved to her center to assist his mouth. "House…fuck…" she moaned, completely distanced from her earlier thoughts.

He sat up, allowing her to fall back onto his torso. "I'd love to," he smirked, while he grabbed her ankle from the bed and helped her wrap one leg, and then the other around him.

She loved the initial moments of penetration, when her body would first stretch to accommodate him, while she could feel the exact depth of his reach as he moved further inside of her. The extent of his girth always brought her to the verge of discomfort until her muscles relaxed enough to allow more fluid movements.

He tested her with a few shallow thrusts, watching her chest undulate from her deeper, breathier moans. "Closer," she commanded, as she tightened her legs and arms around him. He pulled her tightly to him, smashing her breasts against him so he could detect their smooth fullness against his chest, able to literally feel her heart pounding against him.

He lowered his palms to the bed for balance and power, and thrust upwards. He couldn't hold her closer, since his hands were occupied, but her limbs were all desperately clinging to him with equal fervor and desperation.

They came together loudly, panting, and sweating, bodies impossibly tight, stressed to the maximum, and then completely deflated and lax.

"I'm so sorry to ruin your plans," he said tiredly, with sarcastic sweetness, "but I promise if you want to wake me up the same way in the morning, I'll let you blow me without interruption."

She tried to smack his chest, but she was so tired by then that she barely managed a tap against his skin.

"*"

* * *

><p>He was mostly asleep when he heard Cuddy say, "I feel so bad for Jonathan…and…his parents…watching him suffer like that. I can't imagine how painful that must be, every day, not knowing…the not knowing…"<p>

"Stop worrying, about the _patient_ Cuddy, it's amyloidosis. He'll be doing better tomorrow when we go in to work. Don't let this get personal."

At five-thirty her phone rang. She was half on top of him, one foot wedged uncomfortably under his back. She reached past him for the phone, and spoke briefly to the caller.

"Let me guess," he said, "it's not amyloidosis?"

She shook her head and said into the phone, "Hang on." She covered the end of the phone with her hand, "Steroids aren't working. Jon…the _patient_…had a stroke."

House's expression displayed undoubtable confusion. "Tell them to search the home. Someone's poisoning that kid."

Cuddy gave Chase the instructions and ensured him they'd be at the hospital as soon as they were able. Once Chase and Kate returned from their search, they reported finding nothing strange in the home. They were informed that the child was now in the early stages of renal failure.

"Could be environmental or…intentionally toxic...he's out of his home right now, so someone must be bringing the toxin to him," House said. "What's preceding the worsening of symptoms?"

"Maybe the wrong treatment?" Chase said glibly.

"No one poisoned him while I was there," Kate answered with certainty. "That was a pretty sudden downturn, but I never left the room, I was watching them…observing. I _didn't_ leave the room, _didn't_ answer my phone, or talk to anyone else…my focus was on that kid."

"Start running tests for all of the poisons that we didn't look for before," House said, his frustration mounting.

"Do you have any idea how many possibilities there are?" Chase asked, "We've been working on this case while you were sleeping, we're…completely exhausted."

"Go sleep," House said calmly.

"Are you firing me?" Chase asked, dumbfounded. "I'm not…saying I need to go home, I'm asking you to try to narrow the field…do something to help."

"Fine," House responded. "You, Vega and I will run the tests, Cuddy will stay here and watch the kid."

"You…are going to run tests?" Chase asked with complete disbelief.

"I think I'm capable."

"Is this some sort of joke?"

"You think it's a fucking joke?" House spat, "We are talking about multiple system failure. If we don't figure this out within the next few hours…this kid's dead."

Chase and Kate went into the patient's room to draw blood and then marched off to the lab. The child was all but lifeless already. He blinked, and his eyes occasionally looked around the room, but he looked more like a puppet waiting in a case for a performance than a person. His father tried desperately to comfort him, but he could see that his attempts brought the child no solace.

House saw the look of sadness in Cuddy's eyes. "You go run the tests, I'll stay here," he offered.

"No…I can do it," she said.

He nodded and started to walk away. "Hey," she said, stopping him before he could leave. "Why do you want _me_ to stay?"

"You're the most unobjective."

She scoffed, "Excuse me? You think I'm too unobjective to run tests?" she was irritated, instantly reacting to what she thought was an insult.

"No, I think you are more than able to run tests…usually objectivity is good…right now, I'm counting on the fact that you have a personal connection to ensure that there is someone in here whose eyes never leave that child. He…needs someone to watch over him like he matters."

"Are you serious?"

"Yea," he nodded, "if you can't do it..."

She nodded, and turned back toward the room.

"Look…Cuddy…Don't make any decisions about his treatment before talking to me. For that…objectivity is important."

She nodded before entering the room and sitting down in a chair next to the patient's bed.

He limped down the hall toward the lab, wondering if what he asked of her was too much. He knew if he failed, and they couldn't save the child, the loss would likely impact her deeply.

He had no intention of failing.


	81. Chapter 81

**A/N**_- thank you to all of the reviewers Josam, lenasti16, bonneiyy77, JLCH, IHeartHouseCuddy, housebound, TheHouseWitch, SissiCuddles, CaptainK8, Bakerstreet Blues, IWuvHouse, LapizSilkwood, dmarchl, mary, Truth, Abby, Kraw , Alex, HuddyGirl, ClareBear14 and Little Little Greg. And to all who are still hanging with these guys in the post-show world._

_Special thanks to the person I'll refer to anonymously as "the sanest person I know"...for keeping me company until the very wee hours and actually making me laugh when I was whining like a petulant child because of the finale...thanks for helping me keep that modicum of sanity I've scrounged up from the recesses of my mind.  
><em>

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of that show. Apologies for any medical errors.  
><em>

* * *

><p>House, Kate and Chase were running as many tests as they could, as quickly as they could. House was repeatedly distracted by his own thoughts on the case, fiddling with buttons and paper printouts, as he tried to find some kernel of inspiration that would allow him to crack the case. Kate and Chase were so close to being overcome with exhaustion that they bantered and joked their way through the subsequent hours of testing to avoid falling asleep.<p>

Cuddy called Kate to ask a question about the child's strange attachment to sucking on his mother's forearm, the only real bonding behavior that a nurse noticed between the child and either of his parents. The behavior was eerie, but Kate explained that it was likely a comforting mechanism carried over from infancy, like thumb sucking, but the child either regressed, or never progressed beyond that stage because of being chronically ill.

After she hung up, Kate and Chase were having a conversation, trading barbs in an attempt to remain alert. Chase made a jokingly self-aggrandizing comment about women coming back to him because of his amazing skills in the art of love, and he boasted, "It's like a crack head, chasing that first high," he bragged, as he placed drops of blood on testing strips and ran them through a machine.

"What did you say?" House asked, startled out of his thoughts by Chase's words.

"Sorry," Chase apologized, assuming that House was irritated by their chatter, and how it was disrupting his thought process.

"What. Did. You. Say?" House repeated.

Chase tentatively replied, "That I'm…so good in bed that after sleeping with me, women are like crack heads chasing their first high…you know…unable to find the same thrill…"

"Come on," House said, pulling Kate out of the lab. "Drive me to the kid's place."

* * *

><p>When Kate and House arrived at the patient's home, House quickly made his way to the bathroom, and came back out with a plastic bag full of items within a few minutes.<p>

"What's that?" Kate asked.

"The kid's _gelastic_ seizure…occurred not long after you handed him over to his mother. He was…sucking on her arm…her hand or finger?"

"Yea," Kate answered, "Why?"

House grumbled past her and toward the door. "Let's go!" he shouted impatiently at her, as he made his way down the walkway. He called Cuddy on the ride to the hospital. "Forget the steroids, amantadine and keep treating the symptoms."

"Amantadine? He has a virus?" she said skeptically.

"Just do it, I'll be there shortly…and don't let Mommy hold him."

* * *

><p>After they returned to the hospital, House bustled into the patient's room… "You get really stressed…don't you? Like to pamper yourself…relax…" he asked the mother.<p>

"S-s-sometimes…why is he…asking me th…" she began to answer until House approached her.

He grabbed a paper towel and sat on the edge of the patient's bed, placing the towel down on the tray table. He removed a plastic butter knife from a shrink wrapped package of disposable utensils that was still on the table from an earlier meal, and grabbed the mother's wrist, holding it up over the table.

"Hey!" the boy's father yelled.

"You're concerned that I'm going to hurt her with a plastic knife?" House asked incredulously. "Hold still," he ordered, as he scraped her skin with the back of the blade, and watched a substance fall down onto the paper towel.

He creased the paper towel to prevent the contents from spilling, and offered it to Kate and Chase, who were watching the scene from a few feet away from him. "Taste it! It's yummy. I would, but I don't want to be accused of relapse in order to prove a point."

"What is it?" Kate asked, staring closely at tiny crystals.

House grabbed the bag he took from the patient's home, and dumped out the jars that were inside onto the bed.

"This man's insane!" the father complained.

"You aren't the first person to suggest that," House said, pointing at the jars of bath salts on the bed. "Where did you get these? These aren't the ordinary ones you used to be able to buy from little smoke shops."

"His sister, she stayed with us for a while, left boxes of them," the child's mother answered.

"Is she maybe…in jail, or…rehab?" House asked.

"I don't know," the patient's father said. "She left suddenly."

"The _gelastic seizure_ you geniuses noticed," he directed his statement at Kate and Chase, "wasn't a seizure. He was experiencing chemically induced euphoria." He turned to the parents, "Your son…was getting high. Synthetic cocaine likely, but could be lots of other fun stuff mixed in there. Almost impossible to find on standard tests. What you have…looks new. We can analyze it, but…pretty much we treat the symptoms, wait for the kid to detox. He should be fine. We'll have to make sure that the lack of oxygen during the stroke didn't cause any other problems, and that the heart muscle isn't permanently damaged."

"That doesn't make sense, I'm fine!" the mother insisted.

"Right, because you _bathed_ in it, you didn't _eat_ it! You didn't rinse your skin well enough after your bath. Your little boy got a little taste of the residual salt on your skin, got his first high about four months ago. Not a tremendous amount by adult standards, but for someone as small as your son…a noticeable amount. Lick Mommy's arm, experience euphoria. Mommy doesn't take a special bath for a few days…he experiences withdrawal…depression…explains the cycle of symptoms. Long term effects of the drug in his system caused the heart and brain problems, stomach issues…everything. The amantadine will help with the withdrawal, we'll have to monitor him, probably wouldn't hurt to analyze this crap in the lab, see if there's anything else that may be causing problems."

House stood as abruptly as he entered, and left the room, followed by Kate. "That was amazing…how in the hell did you figure that out?" she asked, truly awed by her friend's diagnosis.

He turned and looked down at her, his expression serious and somewhat angry, "How did _you_ miss it? Who searched the bathroom?"

"I did," she answered immediately.

"Are you covering for Chase, or did you _actually_ search the bathroom."

"I _actually_ searched the bathroom."

"You almost killed that kid," he said scornfully. "You also failed to mention that he was licking his mommy before the euphoria set in. That's a pretty pertinent piece of information. The delivery mechanism."

"I said I thought he was having a seizure. You know what a gelastic seizure is…you could have inferred from there," she responded, irritated by the accusation.

"I asked you to observe, and you failed to mention critical information. You are going to have to learn to search a home properly. You screwed up."

"Well, thank god I'm just the psych consult then. Your search wasn't part of a psych consult. I'm not one of your lackeys. I was doing you a favor."

"Don't bother doing me any more half-assed favors. Do it right or go home."

"I love ultimatums. Decision…made," she said, waving and walking down the hall.

"It's going to be really embarrassing when she comes crawling back," House said to Cuddy, who was quietly watching from the doorway.

"Julia and I fight all of the time. It'll be fine"

"I wasn't worried," he answered, sounding somewhat defensive.

"OK," Cuddy replied.

"She wants the job, they always want the job."

"She already has a job…you were right, she missed something really critical, but all in all, not too bad for her first real case back after brain surgery… Your cases are different…it probably takes time to get used to what to look for. And…technically, she was also right, she is actually just the psych consult."

"You're taking her side?"

"No. I said you were right too. You both had valid points. You guys are pretty similar. You're going to bump heads."

"I wouldn't have missed important facts, and I wouldn't act like that either."

"You wouldn't mouth off to authority, tell that authority you quit, and storm off? If only there was someone around that you used to work for, we could see what they'd say about that…"

He opened his mouth to protest and then said calmly, "Well…she didn't even check out my rack. And…she _did_ screw up…and the kid could have died."

"Yes, she did…and yea he could have."

"So…you think I'm a dick?"

"No. You give your best, you expect the best…if she can't deal with it, then she shouldn't work with you on these cases."

"Did you know that team member Cuddy is so much cooler than Dean Cuddy, the wicked boss?"

"Believe me, it's much more fun being team member Cuddy. One thing Kate was completely right about...that was amazing! Nice work, House! I'm so glad you saved that kid."

* * *

><p>House and Cuddy made their way into the bar later that evening after returning home from Princeton. After a few hours of sleep, Chase was carefully monitoring the recovery of their patient and reporting back to the team. Kate was behind the bar, working the relatively large crowd. House rounded the back and offered to help, which she accepted, but muttered, "Sure…just…don't crowd me."<p>

He wasn't sure exactly what he hoped to accomplish. At that point he was hoping to keep the friendship intact, and was somewhat irritated that she seemed to take his criticism so personally. He had an underlying belief that he'd walk into the bar and find that she had already moved beyond their discussion and that things had returned to normal, but her short response indicated otherwise.

He helped her clear out the waiting patrons and then walked over to her, "So…quite a case, huh?" he asked.

"Go over there!" she pointed to the other side of the bar.

"Come on, are you going to be such a fucking child about this…we have to…"

"House, shut up," she said calmly, "Go stand over there. Now." She smiled. "Please…"

Her smile didn't look forced, but it did look pleading, so he walked away, slamming a beer up onto the counter for a regular customer. Cuddy was sitting at a table, chatting away happily with a group of regulars who were planning a wedding. House couldn't suppress a smile at her calm, almost care-free interaction, her pleasant mood returning since they had diagnosed young Jonathan. He turned back to Kate to try and decide what to do, when he saw her leaning against the bar, talking to a somewhat conservatively dressed woman sitting across from her.

The woman reached across the bar, placed a hand on Kate's forearm, and whispered something to her, with barely a sliver of space between them. Kate smiled at her, but kept her gaze uncharacteristically away from the woman. Kate looked almost…shy. It was a behavior he had rarely seen, and it was very amusing to watch someone he knew so well behaving so differently. The woman slid a scrap of paper across the bar, and held out her hand for an undeniably feminine handshake, and Kate nodded a goodbye, before discretely watching the woman leave.

After she was gone, Kate wandered past House to get a few bottles from the cooler and saw her grinning at him. "OK," he questioned, "I'll ask…who was that?"

"Oh my god…so hot, right?" Kate asked, her face friendly and excited.

"You aren't mad?" House said with surprise.

"About what?" she asked, clearly distracted by her thoughts as she picked up a towel to wipe condensation off of the bar.

"Me…pointing out your somewhat egregious error."

"I think egregious is a bit strong…what do you think of her though?"

He looked toward the door where Kate was still half staring, "Can you focus?" he asked.

Kate dropped a towel on the bar, "Sure," she said, facing him.

"Our discussion…at the hospital…earlier. You were there, right?"

"Absolutely! Look, House, if you're going to get worked up over every disagreement…"

"Me? You are the one who walked off."

"The case was over."

"You quit!"

"I left. I don't even work for you. How can I quit a job I don't have? I was there for a consult. I thought we were just…being us… We've bitched at each other a thousand times before."

He blinked rapidly and tried to find his thoughts. "OK."

"Yea, I did fuck up. I'm…glad he didn't die because I'd definitely feel responsible. And…I am sorry for that," she said, "I'll probably avoid being a member of your search team, because I clearly don't know what to look for, but if you need me for a psych consult, I'll pitch in."

"OK," he answered, still mildly confused.

"Are we good?" she asked.

"Uh…yea…"

"Good," Kate answered, walking down the bar to get drinks for those who were waiting.

"So…the woman that you were talking to. You finally getting back to doing what you like best? She an old hookup, new hookup?" he asked, still somewhat thrown by the fact that their argument was being taken in stride.

"Neither. I knew her a long time ago. She turned me down!" Kate said, flashing her eyes and another grin.

"Most people aren't nearly as excited about that as you are…"

"She saw my name in the paper…the whole…shooting deal," she answered still smiling.

"Again…not usually a topic that brings a smile…"

"She just wanted to see how I was doing."

House nodded, "She straight?"

"Nope."

"When you first met her…Was she partnered?"

"Nope."

"She partnered now?

"Nope."

"Why'd she turn you down?"

"She said she was worth more than one night."

House looked up into the air, conjured a mental picture, and nodded, "She's probably right."

"I know!"

"You gonna go out with her?"

"Yup," Kate answered, somewhat victoriously.

"Nice."

"She already told me she won't sleep with me on the first date."

"Think you can survive?" he asked sarcastically.

"I don't know," she replied with mock thoughtfulness.

* * *

><p>When they got back to Kate's place, Cuddy was bustling around for the second night in a row. House heard her chatting with Kate for a few minutes in the living room, then doing something in the kitchen. Her bizarre bursts of night energy were a bit irritating. He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting to talk to her, prepared for the second difficult conversation of the night, and hoping he was concerned over nothing, just as he had been with Kate.<p>

Cuddy came into the room and sat down next to him, holding her disk of birth control pills between two fingers and rattling the package. "I don't want to get hurt."

"Can't prevent pain, Cuddy. If things go wrong…we'll get through. You thought you wouldn't survive after losing Rachel…and you did. I'm not saying it was simple…but…you made it."

"I don't want to…let you down."

"You won't let me down. Because I'm perfectly fine with accepting either outcome. I promised you…No lies. I…am not lying. I am fine…with either outcome."

"I don't want you to look at me like I'm defective."

"You…don't want _me…_ to see _you…_ as defective?"

"Yea."

"You married the most defective human being on the planet…and you are worried about that?" he said with irritation.

"Not as man."

"As a human"

"No…"

"No? I am…_completely_ defective. I'm a fucking cripple…"

"I see you as more than your leg," she interjected.

"…and quite possibly the most emotionally and socially defective human being…ever?"

Her mouth opened just a bit as the weight of his words hit her. "I'm so sorry, that…you still feel that way," she said with complete sincerity. "After all of the strides we've made…what we mean to each other, what we do for each other…the countless things you've done for me. No one else could have helped me get over losing Rachel…I wasn't able to let any other person in…and you still see yourself like that?"

"I dunno"

"You shouldn't. You…aren't like that anymore. I don't think that you were ever even half as screwed up as you saw yourself."

He sat in thought for a moment and then said, "So…like you said…after all the strides we've made…what we…mean to each other, how we take care of each other…you are going to boil down your success as a person to whether or not you can have a kid? You're going to ignore who you are, your professional and scholastic accomplishments, your current successful relationship, your previous success as a mother, and you're going to completely dismiss all of those successes…if you and your ancient husband can't manage to have a kid? Seems…really oversimplified…and _completely_ irrational."

She nodded, "I just have this fear that you are going to look at me, and see the biggest mistake of your life when you realize what you could have had," she blurted out.

"I would…never…consider you that. I consider myself a lucky man…on an almost hourly basis. Most people didn't think I'd ever be where I am…and I wouldn't be where I am without you. You can't reduce your effectiveness as a human to one aspect of your life…you see me as more than my leg… I see you as more than your ovaries."

"Fine…I don't want you to see me as less of a woman."

"That's…just stupid," he said shaking his head. "If you aren't a woman I can't wait to hear where I've been hiding my penis."

She snickered against her will, "You are so crude."

"If you are the result of plastic surgery…if this…" he waved his hand across her body, "is what is possible through the miracles of modern medicine…I'd still be OK with that. This is the beauty of this whole scenario. I'm just as likely to be unable to reproduce as you are…probably more likely. Without tests and specialists, we'll assume it's mutual responsibility. There's no blame…no need for you to feel defective or inferior…or whatever. It's mutual accomplishment…or mutual failure."

"Yea," she nodded. "You sure you're OK with leaving it to fate?"

"Not fate…biology…but, yea," he nodded. "Cuddy, either way…I'm going to be OK. You are going to be OK. Let's not…hinge everything on this one thing."

She looked away from him for a minute and stared at the dresser. "Are you absolutely sure?" she whispered.

"Yea"

"You think you can keep up with demand?" she asked flirtatiously.

"I think so…if not…I _really_ hope to die trying," he smirked.

She grinned and threw the package of pills, bouncing it off of the wall, and watching it fall down into the low trashcan next to the dresser.

He looked over her libidinously, "God, this is gonna be fun!"

"I took my regular dose this morning…I think you actually have to start missing doses before you can start hoping for anything."

"Such a skeptic," he teased. "You remember the adage…don't you? If at first…you don't succeed…" he started.

She smiled at him and then kissed his upper lip, "If at first you don't succeed…" she kissed his lower lip, and then pressed fuller kisses against him, "Try, try again!"


	82. Chapter 82

**A/N**_-I've been told some reviews didn't show up correctly…so if I missed any of you or what you said, I probably didn't receive your review. Technology! Thank you to all of you who reviewed: lenasti16, IWuvHouse, IW, JLCH, IHeartHouseCuddy, partypantscuddy, Anonymous, SissiCuddles, Bakerstreet Blues, jkv97, ClareBear14, KiwiClare, Josam, dmarchl, housebound, Way Worse Than Scottish, alddi, Abby, Alex and HuddyGirl._

_Thanks to all of you for so many encouraging words, I'm really glad to see people are still reading now that the show's over!  
><em>

_I probably won't be able update tomorrow_

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own them._

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><p>After a couple of days of going to the hospital to finalize paperwork, and settling into their new offices, House and Cuddy took a few days off of work, deciding that regular time off was supposed to be one of the perks of their new working circumstance. Their patient was responding remarkably well to treatment, and was showing steady improvement.<p>

The morning of their first day off, Cuddy decided she was ready to put her home in Baltimore up for sale. For some reason, the decisions that they'd made, and the curing of their patient, made her feel ready to let go of that particular connection to a painful part of her history.

She had been packing things even before their wedding, but that morning, the decision was made, she told the barely verbal morning House that she wanted to meet with a real estate agent later that day. He held onto his mug of coffee with almost religious devotion, and looked up at her while his brain slowly began to process audible sounds into complete thoughts.

She smirked at his hazy attention and said, "You can decide later on if you want to ride along."

House did ride along with her to her old place, hoping that she was as ready to handle this transition as she thought she was. When they walked in, her home smelled stale from being closed up and uninhabited for so long. Most of the furniture inside was rented, Cuddy's more personal pieces still in storage from when she was trying to cope with Rachel's death by distancing herself from the plethora of reminders around every corner of her home.

Cuddy cleaned, and organized the boxes that were already packed into piles to go to storage or to be taken with them. She giggled at House, who was helping by running a vacuum, which looked completely ridiculous to her for some reason. "Why are you laughing at me when I'm trying to help you?" he asked, after turning off the vacuum.

"All of those years we were around each other…I rarely saw you outside of the hospital…you were… It's always strange to see you doing ordinary things," she said. "All of those times you swooped in with last minutes diagnoses…all of those lives you've changed…I'm sure those people never assumed you went home after a stroke of genius and threw your clothes in the laundry and did your dishes."

"I do a lot of things the humans do," he smirked and took a hobbled step closer to her without the benefit of his cane or the vacuum. "Of course, even the human things I do, I do with super human capabilities," he said and he pulled her into his grasp with one raised eyebrow. "Wouldn't you say?"

"Definitely," she answered with a mischievous grin, "the sparkle in our dishes puts all the other kitchens on the block to shame."

"Don't forget the wrinkle-free laundry," he responded before pulling her more tightly against him and lifting her upward, nipping at her lower lip, "To achieve my signature look, I actually hand-wrinkle all of my shirts!"

He had the playful, boyish grin that always filled her with sentimental and amorous feelings, and she said, "You are just…unbelievably adorable…"

"Shhh," he said, looking around as if he was concerned someone could hear her. "You are going to ruin my rep. Devastatingly handsome, studly…the embodiment of manliness…we've discussed the appropriate compliments, haven't we?" he teased.

The smile slipped away from her face, and he had no idea what caused the sudden change, his mind immediately wondering what he could do to fix the problem before it became a bigger problem.

He couldn't help that he hated being there in that place. Everywhere he looked, there was an image that was brought to his mind that he didn't like. Cuddy settling into that place after she fled Princeton, other men coming to the door to take her out on dates, Matthew trying to talk his way into her bed, Cuddy returning there alone after Kate was shot and he pushed her away from him. Worst of all, images of Cuddy, alone and vulnerable in that big empty building, yearning for an end to the suffering after her child died. He wondered if, in the days after Rachel's death, she was ever as tempted by suicide as he been at times during his life. The thought of her, in that empty building, wishing for peace, at a time when he was still worlds away from where he could help her, gnawed at him.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

Her blank expression became devious. "I want you so badly right now."

"Oh!" he said with surprise. "Not what I expected…what brought that on?" he asked as she stepped back to look at him.

"You said it all yourself…devastatingly handsome, embodiment of manliness'…gets a girl thinking…" she said as her hands rubbed along his forearms, slowly moving up toward his shoulders. "Better wait," she added patting his face and stepping away.

"That wasn't nice," he accused.

She giggled, "It wasn't _nice_?"

"No, you interrupt my vacuuming to turn me on and then you say 'better wait'!" imitating her voice in a high-pitched, whiny and bossy way.

She grinned and looked at her phone, "The realtor is supposed to be here right now. So I'm assuming at any moment there's going to be a knock on the door. Would you rather me stop you now, or after you have a breast in your mouth and my hands shoved in your pants?"

His body tingled at her suggestion, his needs, and hers, still unrelenting.

"If she shows up, we tell her to wait. If she wants the money she'll wait ten minutes. Or two hours…"

She prepared to answer him when there was a knock at the door.

A short, pudgy woman in an almost paramilitary business suit stood on the other side of the door. "Dr. Cuddy!" the woman boisterously announced, "I understand you'd like to sell your home!"

House looked like he was almost pushed backwards by the energy from this clamorous woman. "Mayra Anderson!" she barked at Cuddy, extending a hand for a handshake. After she finished jerking Cuddy's arm in welcome she turned to House, extending her hand and saying forcefully, "Mayra Anderson!"

He placed his hand flat against his chest, "I'm a germaphobe."

"Fine, fine! You must be Mr. Cuddy."

"Yes," he answered, bumping Cuddy's arm with his elbow so she wouldn't correct the woman, hoping that Mayra Anderson would know as little as possible about him when their interaction was over.

Cuddy took her on a tour through the home while House sat on the sofa, waiting for their return, his eyes almost distressed, as he listened to Mayra Anderson's comments being spoken with such vigor and volume that she sounded like she was in the room with him no matter where she was at in the home.

"Now!" the realtor stated as she and Cuddy returned to the living room, "Hey, where's the little one then?" she asked, looking around.

"Not with us today," House said calmly, deflecting the question away from Cuddy.

"Well, as cute as the kiddie room is, I think you should dress it up a bit, make it more neutral so that people with older children, roommates, or live-in elderly parents don't automatically picture it as a kid's room. I like the office space, most folks want to see in-home offices now," the woman was yammering on while Cuddy sat on the sofa next to him and gestured for the woman to take a seat on the adjacent chair.

House leaned further down into the sofa, his arms crossed, with a sulky look on his face. He could feel her just barely grazing along his side, and pondered one of the more pleasant shifts in their relationship: the way they would actually go near each other for comfort, almost unconsciously seeking shelter in the other's physical presence.

Cuddy and the realtor worked out a few details, like listing prices and terms of sale, while House looked on silently. When Mayra Anderson stood to leave, Cuddy escorted her to the door, "OK!" the realtor said, using the same overly emphatic tone that she seemed to use for everything, "So, you'll have the place cleaned up…leave some furniture…and you'll 'grow-up' the kid room a bit…right?"

Cuddy nodded, "Yea, thanks."

"You stick with me, I'll get you ever dollar of your asking price!"

After the woman left, Cuddy flopped down on the sofa next to him, "Well, she's a bit much! At least we won't have to deal with the showings and open houses…we'll let her take care of that."

House stared ahead, a brooding expression etched deeply on his face.

"Hey?" she asked without receiving an answer. "House?"

"Hunh?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbled.

"You look…sad…"

"I'm fine," he sighed.

She tucked her feet up under her, sitting on them, facing him, nudging her nose into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and smiling when he reflexively responded by pushing back, pressing his cheek against her and shrugging his shoulder in an informal hug. She sat up, sneaking an arm around him and resting her chin on his shoulder. "Tell me…" she gently requested.

He looked over at her, perhaps a little defeated, and forced a half-mouthed grin, "I don't like her."

"The realtor?"

"Mayra Anderson!" he responded, mimicking her loud and obnoxious voice.

She breathed a chuckle, "You…don't have to like her…you won't see her much. Hopefully just at closing. You don't even have to go to that, if you don't want to."

His arms were still folded across his chest, but he reached his fingers out to touch what he could reach of her arm, and she found the small gesture oddly touching. "You look so pathetic…" she said sympathetically.

"I'm not pathetic."

"I know…it's sweet…just tell me what's in your head…please?"

"Does it really matter if the room's made up for a kid or an adult? Is that really going to prevent you from making top dollar…people are that…unimaginative...that they can't picture putting their own furniture, their own comforter, on the bed?"

Cuddy smiled sweetly, "She's just trying to help."

"Mmmm," he answered, unconvinced.

She looked at him, lightly biting her own lip, unbelievably touched that he was so protective over Rachel's room and her memory within those walls. She thought for a moment of what she could do to make things any better for him, feeling the overwhelming urge to ameliorate the disgusted feeling he seemed to have in his gut. Her heart felt like it was swelling in her chest with the need to make him feel better, to take care of him.

"Honestly," she said calmly, "I wanted to get the rest of Rachel's stuff out before we show the place anyway. I don't want people sitting on her quilt or looking through her things…so…invasive."

His eyes shifted over to her, and she assumed that he probably knew what she was trying to do, and that he appreciated it nonetheless. "Yea," he agreed.

She turned his face and kissed him sweetly, leaning into his side. His one arm left the tightly clenched placement across his chest in favor of cradling her elbow and pulling her closer. She pushed him back until he was lying flat on the sofa, and she wedged herself between the sofa back and his body, kissing and lightly caressing, solely in order to have some contact. She started to relax into their spot and hooked her leg over his hips to nap.

She felt him twitch slight beneath her and he lifted her knee and moved her leg further up his body, away from a position that would encourage arousal. Pretending to be asleep, she stretched her leg, and let it wander lower again, and heard him emit a soft, regretful moan before he repositioned himself and her again. When her fingers scratched down his shirt to the front of his pants he started to whimper and breathed out, "OK…now I know you're awake and just tormenting me."

"Doesn't have to be torment."

"I'm being sweet and cuddly, damnit. It isn't easy, but you are trying to turn it into hot and sweaty…and then you're going to say to me 'can't we just cuddle more' or 'do you just want me for sex' and then I'm going to feel like a jerk for making you feel like an object, and then…"

"Shhh…" she interrupted. "Several points to address. First of all…I'm never going to say 'can't we just cuddle more'. I'm just as bad as you are."

He smiled, "I love that about you."

"I also…don't think you just want me for sex. No one would put up with me for just sex."

"Of _course_ they would!" he said with exaggerated supportiveness, kissing her forehead. "It's really amazing sex."

"Finally…we can still be sweet and cuddly and naked all at the same time."

"Ahh…the elusive sex-cuddle combo…" he teased.

"Mmmhmm," she replied slowly removing her own clothes and his alternatingly, and stilling his hands whenever he tried to assist with the process, insisting that she was taking care of him. They took their time fondling and kissing and eventually merging into one, forgoing more assertive, needy sex for insistently deep connectedness, and mutual rocking that provided a slow and steady buildup to a very satisfying finish for both of them.

They napped on the sofa until the doorbell rang. House looked at his watch, the only thing that he was wearing by that point. He slapped Cuddy's thigh softly, "Wake up, someone's here," he said.

She pulled herself away from him and started separating the piles of clothes between his and hers when the doorbell rang again. They each shivered, the room feeling very cold in the absence of body heat. She quickly tugged her clothes on and tried to calm her hair with her hands before looking through the peephole. "Urgh," she complained, turning around to see how composed House was.

He finally finished dressing, and sat back in the sofa. Cuddy smiled at the door before opening it for her elderly neighbor. The same woman who used to watch Rachel, and was with her when she died. "Lisa, I see you're selling this place. That's too bad, I was hoping you and your friend would be moving in here."

"I have a job…near where I used to live," Cuddy said, purposefully oversimplifying.

"I will miss having you here. I can't believe it's almost a year now that little Rachel's gone," the woman said as the autumn breeze blew in through the door as if on cue. "Maybe it's good you're moving on…away from this place…"

House closed his eyes tightly, feeling the tension from the verbalized reminder of the upcoming anniversary that they both acknowledged, but neither mentioned. Cuddy crossed her arms over herself, rubbing her them as if to find warmth. "Perhaps," Cuddy answered.

"Well," the woman said, peering over Cuddy, at House, "Look out for my friend. She's been through enough suffering for a couple of lifetimes!"

When Cuddy finally said her goodbyes, and shut the door and turned around, House was no longer in the living room. She finally found him in Rachel's room.

"This…sucks," he said, shaking his head.

"I know" she replied, before sitting down next to him on Rachel's bed.

"Are you sure you are OK with selling this place?"

"Yes," she said with certainty. "We are taking along the things that matter. "

"It still sucks"

"Believe me, I know. But, I like how…I feel…like we are bringing her with us. I like how you are part of keeping her alive."

"I was so fucking stupid. I could have been part of something so different," he said, anger bubbling through. "And I fucked it all up."

"So did I, House. But, we learned enough to never let that happen again."

He looked so frustrated, and she could see his mind pondering the ways to reverse the hands of time. "Why can't I fix it?" he asked. "I hate that no matter how hard I try…there is nothing I can do to save her. And absolutely nothing…will ever change that."

"When I went to her…in the hospital…there was this brief, fleeting moment when you came to mind…when I thought…'maybe House could do something'. Obviously it was...far too late. Stupid, right?"

"I wish I could have done something."

"You did do something…You saved me. And in some way…Rachel saved us."

They spent a few moments together in the room, before they both acknowledged that the time had come. Cuddy seemed to be on a mission, gathering the boxes, particularly the things from Rachel's room that she wanted, and loading the car. Wilson and Ann showed up to help load items, and Cuddy didn't waste any more time.

House stopped her momentarily, asking with his expression if she was OK. "I don't want to come back here any more than I have to. It's time. This place is…death and loneliness, and it's time to leave that behind," she said with certainty. "Are _you_ OK with that?"

He nodded, "Yea. I am."

House, Wilson and Ann helped to finish preparations, each person sensing Cuddy's need to close the door on that chapter in her life. After a few hours, only furniture remained…the rented furniture, the piano, and Cuddy's bedroom suite, the building now emptied of all relevant contents. She would send movers back for any remaining furniture, and hopefully sign closing paperwork in a realtor's office somewhere. She gathered Rachel's bicycle from the garage and put it in the back of Wilson's SUV. She looked at House, determined, "Let's get out of here."


	83. Chapter 83

**A/N-**_Hey all, had some requests to start a different story…something post-season 8 …sorry, I can only juggle one at a time (and I'm still boycotting the existence of Season 8 at all)…some people can do multiple stories at the same time…and they do it very well. I just can't. _

_Also, I won't drop this story without bringing it to an ending…a couple of people asked about that again…I promise I'll finish this…if I don't, it means that bolt of lightning finally found its mark (hahaha)_

_Some of the messages/reviews have been so amazing and supportive. Thank you so much to all of you, particularly the reviewers since the last time: lenasti16, IHeartHouseCuddy, Zaydasky, JLCH, newdayz, SissiCuddles, partypantscuddy, Josam, Bakerstreet Blues, alddi, itzaboo, KiwiClare, housebound, ClareBear14, TheHouseWitch, LoveMyHouse, Alex, dmarchl, HuddyGirl, Abby, Anon, Pdubou, Little Greg, jkv97 and Mon Fogel._

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter contains adult content…if you don't like it, skip the marked portion._

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><p>They had two stops to make on the way back from Baltimore before Wilson and Ann could go home. The first was the storage unit where Cuddy had put all of her furniture almost a year earlier.<p>

When they arrived at the storage facility, she stooped to release the lock, slid the narrow version of a rolling garage-door upwards, and stepped inside. "Fuller than I remembered," she commented, as she brushed her hands together. She was almost instantly climbing up over furniture and stacking items near the back, trying to make more room.

House stared at the familiar items, almost as recognizable as any of his own things would had been. Somewhere in his mind, he had etched so many details of his time with Cuddy. Bookshelves, a rocker, a large comfy chair, familiar sofa. He sat on the edge of the sofa, rubbing his hand over the juice stain Cuddy mentioned to him before…one of the many details in her home that evoked memories that she tried so hard to expunge. He remembered reading to Rachel on that sofa, holding Cuddy there, and playing his handheld. He found a tiny bit of frayed fabric, a flaw in the upholstery, where the seat met up with the beading along the edge of the cushion.

Years earlier, there was a particularly horrible day, when Rachel was with her grandmother, and Cuddy was so frustrated and tense that he thought she'd never agree to an ounce of fun. That same night, they were watching a movie on the sofa. The movie was actually quite good, worthy of their attention, but she certainly couldn't focus on it, particularly once she felt his lips and tongue along her neck and shoulder promising an end to her sour mood if she'd acquiesce to his non-verbalized suggestion. She created that tiny imperfection in the fabric while she was clawing at it, puncturing the weak spot with her fingernail while she writhed beneath him.

That day, the tension and frustration led to an entire night of amazing passion, the kind of night that made living through all of bullshit worthwhile. The kind of night that made them realize what they had been missing all of those years. He loved reminding her of the origins of the fray almost any time he sat on that sofa.

Of course he also remembered the other nights, when the tension and frustration didn't lead to anything wonderful. When they were arguing or miserable, sometimes not communicating at all.

He remembered wanting to be invited back into her home after he was barred from that place. When all he wanted was to be rewelcomed into her personal space again: sitting with her, hugging her, kissing her, fucking her, loving her. Having that withheld was every bit as painful, perhaps more so, than an unanswered craving for Vicodin at the height of his addition.

The memories of being trapped outside flooded his head, and he looked up and saw Ann, speaking to Cuddy so quietly that he couldn't hear. He immediately wondered what the woman was saying to Cuddy and hoped it wasn't something that would ignite unhappiness or make Cuddy regret her decision to move away from her old place.

He needed to find a reason for Cuddy to leave, just for a few minutes.

He waited until she was looking in his direction, and he gave the slightest wince and moved his hand just a bit toward the damaged muscle in his leg. He knew not to oversell. He knew she would notice even that subtle gesture, and she did not disappoint him. Smiling at Ann, she climbed over a few boxes back out to where he was sitting.

She saw him wince, just barely. She knew he was trying to hide his pain, and that made her all the more concerned. When she got out to him she said, casually, trying not to draw attention, "Need anything?"

"I'm fine," he answered at first, until she tried to walk away. "Cuddy," he said quietly. "Look, I'm sorry…"

"For what?"

"I ran out of meds. I thought I packed enough. Could you maybe…run down to the store for me?"

"I'll send Ann, that way I can keep working," she said, smiling.

"No…can you go? I don't want them to know it's bugging me. 'Cause…then they'll ask…and it'll be a whole…thing…"

"Oh. Sure…OK," she smiled.

Cuddy offered to buy drinks and snacks for everyone and left for the pharmacy shortly after.

House directed Wilson and Ann further into the storage unit and then pushed the sofa around to the side so it was harder for them to get out.

"What the hell, House?" Wilson said when the sofa bumped into him.

"Ooops," House replied insincerely.

The couple looked at him, and he said, as he leaned against the doorway, absently twirling his cane, "How about we all take a break."

"I'm fine," Ann said, "I want to get wrapped up so I can pick Adam up from my mom's early enough to get him home and in bed.

"This won't take long…sit down…" House replied, gesturing to the turned around sofa. "Sit down!" he insisted.

They did so, slowly, and with uncertainty. "Thanks," House said as they took their places and he walked over to lean his hands on the back of the seat.

"House, what's going on?" Wilson asked.

"Oh my god!" Ann said excitedly, "She's already pregnant, isn't she!"

House closed his eyes, and took a very deep breath, trying not to yell at the woman, assuming that she would probably not react well to an outburst of irritation from him.

"Here's the deal. I know you both want Cuddy and I to be OK. I also know, that you _think_ you know, how to make that happen. YOU DON'T!"

Wilson and Ann both stared at him wide-eyed. "Stop helping!" House added. "I'm not joking. We don't need help."

"Cuddy already told me," Wilson said, "we aren't going to get involved."

"No running back and forth, or giving _helpful_ little reports to either of us?" House asked.

"Nope," Wilson said, "we'll wait for you to come to us. Message received, but I hope you know what you're doing."

"I don't," House said, "at least not always, but we're figuring it out. Now…secondly…and perhaps more importantly…"

Wilson started to stand up to continue working until he caught House's scowl out of the corner of his eye, and lowered himself back down onto the sofa. "OK. Go ahead," Wilson prompted.

"No one…_ever_…asks Cuddy about having a kid. No one ever asks her if she's pregnant, or wants to be pregnant or thought about being pregnant. Don't ask her if she wants children, or wants to be a mother, or anything remotely like that. You mention the word 'baby', and you had better be talking about your own. Was there…any part of that you didn't follow?"

"Aww…did she have a miscarriage?" Ann said, concerned.

"No!" House barked. "Didn't I just ask you not to talk about it?"

"You said not to ask Lisa. She isn't here," Ann answered.

"Don't talk to me about it either," he added.

"Fine," Ann responded.

"And don't…mention this conversation to her."

The three of them resumed their work, shifting boxes and moving in the additional items Cuddy packed.

"She's back," Ann said, nodding toward the approaching car.

"Smiles everyone," House said, as he moved the sofa back to its original position and sat down.

When Cuddy walked back into the shed, she found House, toying with the rip in her sofa and smirking at her. She smirked back, immediately realizing what he was drawing attention to, and why.

Later, when House left to find the bathroom, Cuddy walked up to Ann and said, "Look, I know how much you both want House and I to be happy, but I need to know you aren't going to run behind our backs every…"

"Say no more!" Wilson interrupted. "Ann and I…had a long talk about what you told me at the hospital. I'm sorry about the other day, and…" Wilson stuttered as he looked behind Cuddy and saw House returning much more quickly than he'd expected. "Look, don't worry. No more…I'm staying out of it!" Wilson said quickly, backing away from Cuddy to pay attention to a box.

"Me too!" Ann said with a smile.

"Are you guys OK?" Cuddy asked, surprised at their nervousness.

House came up behind her, "Everything OK, my beloved?" House asked, jokingly addressing her in an over the top way.

Cuddy looked at him strangely. "Are you talking to _me_?" she teased, "Sorry, I just assumed you were talking to your cock."

"No…you know I call that my better half. _You're_ my beloved, sweetie," he responded, as Cuddy rolled her eyes and chuckled, shaking her head.

"Guess the bathroom's over this way," he pointed, indicating that he was previously headed in the wrong direction.

After Cuddy turned back to her work, House raised a warning finger behind her back at Wilson and Ann.

When they were finished at the storage unit, Wilson and Ann accompanied them to Kate's, where they helped to unload the remaining items before going to pick up Adam and return home.

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

Later that evening, Cuddy was just finishing a bath, feeling tired after a long day of moving and an emotional, but satisfying, goodbye to her old home.

House, almost chivalrously, helped her stand up in the tub, offering a hand to her. He reached up and pulled the detachable showerhead from its place on the wall, turned on the water, and checked the temperature before beginning to rinse her off.

Cuddy's eyes were closed as the water beat down on her and she enjoyed the relaxation it brought. She opened her eyes, surprised that House wasn't trying anything whatsoever apart from rinsing her, and found him chewing. "What are you eating?" she asked suspiciously.

She saw him very purposefully swallow, and try to destroy the evidence of food in his mouth. He opened his mouth and showed her, "Nothing!"

"You ate that dessert that Wilson gave us?"

"You weren't going to eat it."

"Yes I was…at least a few bites! I said you could have _most_ of it" she said with frustration.

"I saved you some," he added, right before spraying her face with water, "Settle down, girl!" he ordered, jokingly.

She stepped forward and pulled at his shirt, stretching it so she could wipe off her face, soaking the shirt front with the water dripping down from her face and hair. He smirked, "Well, you taught me a lesson! Now my shirt's wet...with _water_!"

She was watching him with playfully observant grey eyes, "Can you get my back?" she asked, turning around, leaning one hand against the wall and looking over her shoulder alluringly.

The water was splashing erratically and when she turned further back to see what was going on, she could see him kicking off his shoes and socks before opening his pants.

She turned away from the wall toward him, "We better not. Not here."

"Why not here? I like here."

She wrapped her arms around him, stepping out of the tub and pressing her wet body against his shirt and jeans, the rough denim against her legs quickly becoming heavy from water. "We can go to the bedroom."

"Why?" he asked, clearly disappointed. "You're standing there, showing me your ass and then you decide we have to move to the bedroom?"

"Your leg…was really bothering you earlier…at the storage unit. All of that moving today was a lot of work."

He opened his mouth trying to buy time, "but…I took the meds and I'm doing much better now," he said before he lifted her back over the side of the tub and placed her in the basin.

He removed his jeans, holding onto the wall, and got into the tub.

"I don't want to hurt you," she answered.

He stopped for a second and nodded and said, "I'll be fine. If I'm not, I'll let you know."

He turned her around, and pushed her against the wall, his erection already rampant and pressing against her. Her breasts and stomach were flattened against the cold fiberglass shower wall, a startling contrast between the chill of the wall and the warmth of his body behind her.

He jerked her hips back toward him, to create enough space between her and the wall, so he could touch her. His fingers slipped and reached against her, finding her so much more aroused than he even had hoped for, his visual devouring of her and his blatant desire turning her on beyond belief. Parting her with his fingers, his long middle finger softly tapped at her center, giving her just enough of a touch to arouse her further, but certainly not enough to meet her need. She wanted so much more, grabbing his arm at his wrist and trying to push him more tightly to her.

He braced the heel of his hand against her pubic bone so that she couldn't push him closer, couldn't get the contact that she craved. He allowed his fingers to slide against her, gently, barely, loving the way she was twisting her hips and pressing back and forth, wildly hoping to force him to touch her more aggressively.

When she realized he wouldn't easily cave to fulfilling her needs, she changed strategies. She braced one palm high on the shower wall and tilted her hips back and up toward him, taking the other hand and running it up her stomach and to her breast, cradling it in her hand and firmly pinching a nipple, watching it harden as it protruded through her thumb and forefinger.

His hand went to her other breast, falling into the trap he knew she was setting. She moaned, pulling her hand down from the wall and releasing her breast to reach back to his sides, and walking her hands down them to his hips to pull him against her. His control was slipping away, he knew that, but didn't seem to care. She bent forward, teasing and tempting with the utmost success.

He was trying to remain calm, clear his head, slow his mind from racing ahead and she turned, "Please, House, I need you deep inside me. I _need_ it…please...now."

Hesitation forgotten, he lifted her at the hips and pulled her back against him, easily lifting her to him and plunging into her. He knew her body, and his body, independent of his mind, knew her body. He could find his way around every curve blindfolded and shackled if he had to. She groaned orders at him, searching for more, pleading for him to take her, to possess her with everything that he had.

She moaned her approval, breathed her requests, and had he not been fueled by overwhelming desire, he would have been weak at the knees.

He nipped at her neck and shoulders, his brain and hands fighting to choose which place on her body to enjoy, alternating between holding her hips, touching her breasts, and touching her center, to bring her closer to climax. She was loud and needy and completely amazing, almost as if she was reading his mind and saying and doing exactly the things he wanted her to do the most.

He thought for a moment that he mistimed, that he would finish without her, but at the exact moment when he couldn't hold off any longer, the second he began to jerk inside her, she fell into pleasure hard, holding onto the built in shelves in the shower wall to keep herself upright, meeting each of his powerful thrusts with lusty counter-thrusts.

He leaned against her, pinning her tightly to the wall, "Telling you...one day…having sex with you will be my end."

With a weary laugh, she panted against him, and said, "Sorry"

"I always assumed I'd go out in far worse ways."

"*"

* * *

><p>She helped him shower and then went into the bedroom, finding half of the dessert Wilson brought for them with a fork on a plate on the dresser. She stood there in a nightie, eating the treat by the door, two bites, before handing the remainder to him, then grabbing one final bite before giving him the fork.<p>

He was on top of the covers on the bed in his boxers, tired and eating the last few bites of food.

"Well, your leg didn't hurt that much earlier, but it sure as hell does now," she said as she roughly pressed and kneaded his thigh.

Studying her, he realized that she wasn't fooled by his earlier ruse. "You knew?" he asked, sighing with relief as her attention calmed the ache.

"Yes…I can tell when you are in more pain than usual. Plus...Ann and Wilson were a little...jumpy...when I returned. So…what did you say to them after you got rid of me?"

"That I felt we needed their help to make this work," he said, taking the final bite of dessert and dropping the plate on the bedside table with a tiny clatter.

There was almost instant confusion on her face, but she said nothing, mostly because she wasn't sure what to say.

"After all, we haven't even started to look like each other yet…my ass is still bony, your clothes are still unwrinkled and your stubble needs some serious work," he said, lifting her chin and brushing the backs of his fingers on her cheek to observe the missing scruff.

He smirked while she scooted next to him in bed, and smacked his chest.

He clicked out the light and slid down deeper into their bed where she joined him. He thought she was asleep until she stretched her fingers and pressed her hand tighter to his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her palm and the life that it represented. "So…you have any plans for us this weekend?"

"The usual, food, drink…some sexin', you know."

"Great…" Cuddy began before she was interrupted by a loud bang and the sound of glass shattering in the kitchen.

House got out of bed as quickly as he was able, and reached into the bottom drawer of the beside table to pull out his gun.

"A gun?" Cuddy asked, her voice worried.

"My roundhouse kick ain't what it used to be, and I doubt you can 'yoga' an intruder into submission," he whispered audibly.


	84. Chapter 84

**A/N-**_Thanks everyone for your comments: JLCH, housebound, anon, IHeartHouseCuddy, lenasti16, alddi, Bakerstreet Blues, dmarchl, newdayz, Cookie, SissiCuddles, TheHouseWitch, GeorgeHale, LapizSilkwood, Alex, Josam, yahnis, Suzieqlondon, CaptainK8, phyna, ClareBear14, Abby, hughsoulingregsmind, HuddyGirl, key, IWuvHouse, Akemi1582, jkv97 and LoveMyHouse._

_Here's some more, we're sort of transitioning here...but hopefully good stuff anyway._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>Cuddy grabbed an extra cane from his closet, in case she needed a weapon, and closely followed him out of the room.<p>

House peered around the corner first, and slowly let the hand that held the gun fall down to his side. They heard the sound of slurred and empty laughter and the crinkle of glass under someone's shoe on the floor. Kate was brushing glass off of her pant leg while a barely dressed blond with smeared eyeliner hung on her arm. There were two other women near them, giggling, hanging on each other. They were all obviously intoxicated. Glass from the patio door covered the floor in the kitchen.

House turned around and gave Cuddy the gun, asking her to return it to the nightstand. As she walked back to the bedroom she heard him grumble, "What the fuck, Kate?"

Kate's eyes tried to focus on him before her concentration broke down. The woman hanging on her bit Kate's ear playfully and breathed, "I think we woke up your daddy."

He sneered at the women tripping over themselves, empty, insipid creatures that probably looked quite attractive a few hours earlier, but had faded somewhat during the course of their evening. Kate's attention was taken away from the woman on her arm when she looked down at her hand, and realized that it was bleeding somewhat heavily where shards of glass pierced her skin. He walked over to her, pulling her hand up above heart level and let go, "You're better than this," he said decisively.

"I can help you with that grouchy attitude," one of the women said to him, in an attempt to be flirtatious that appeared more creepy than alluring.

House walked over to a vase in the cabinet, and pulled out Kate's emergency money. He fanned out the bills, and extended a hand with all of the contents toward one of the women. "Split this amongst yourselves," he offered, "Take a cab, find another party or another drunk idiot to hang all over in a desperate attempt to prove your attractiveness."

He thought for a moment that one of them was going to refuse the offer in favor of remaining behind, but seconds later, the hesitation left her face, and she was actually the first one to grab the money as the girls headed for the door.

"I'm not an idiot," Kate mumbled, doing nothing to stop the women from leaving, and walking over to the sink and flipping on the light over it to try and find the pieces of glass still stuck in her flesh.

"You kinda are…right now…you definitely are," he said as he watched her to be sure she was removing all of the glass, "Try choosing girls that won't drop your drunk ass for a couple of bucks."

House grabbed a dishtowel from the drawer and tossed it at her to use on her hand. "And put pressure on it before you bleed out."

"You're a hypocrite," Kate responded, wincing at the burst of blood that erupted when she removed one large piece of glass before tightly pressing the towel over the wound. "You tell me to go get a girl, and then, when I take that advice, you bitch at me for it."

"I didn't say go pick up a pile of drunk slores. I told you to find a girl for some fun, maybe consider keeping one…it's a matter of degrees, if I ask you for a glass of water don't dump a barrel of it on me."

"Don't judge me. I didn't judge you when you got here."

"I'm not judging you… You didn't judge me, but you also didn't shy away from telling me the things I didn't want to hear. Like…when I was being an idiot…I'm trying to stop this self-destruction that you seem to be so fond of lately. Some nights, I really hated you for your honesty. This isn't you. This shit…is stupid. What's going on?"

"Geez, I dunno," she sneered, "someone tried to fucking kill me, the one person I actually thought I might love…hated me…I'm in my 30's and I had my shit more together in my fucking 20's…fuck I was probably more together when I was twelve."

"You have to step back a bit…take a look at it more objectively…"

"Objectively? Sure, let's make a list. What the fuck do I have, House?" she screamed, her face red, and eyes wide and teary, in a loud and angry display of despair.

He was surprised by her outburst, so uncharacteristic and so heartfelt, and he had no idea how to react. He rubbed his rough cheek and chin with his hand, "You were happy the other day…remember, hot date…elusive girl…and now you're bringing home trash and you're pissed off."

"It doesn't fucking matter. All roads lead to the same misery," her mouth moved for a few moments, and House thought she might say something important. "Just forget it, I'm…tired."

She started to walk back to her room, but the tiredness and alcohol compromised her narrow control over her weakened side, and she fell into the table. House stood for a few moments, weighing the options of allowing her to flounder, and keep the appearance of independence, or helping her pull herself to a better position. "There isn't a whole lot of dignity in falling on the floor," he said calmly, with a look of sadness in his eyes. "So I'm going to walk over there, and I'm going to help you sit your pathetic ass in a chair, and you aren't going to complain about it or give me a hard time…because I'm not really helping you, I'm preventing a horrible scene where I'm uncomfortable and embarrassed on your behalf…essentially, I'm helping me."

He worked his way over to her, and waited for her to complain, or lash out, but she didn't. Kate looked completely defeated, lost. He hated seeing that look, and the resulting too vibrant memories it brought forth in his mind. He wondered how many times he had been seen that way over the years, by friends, by coworkers, even by strangers.

He scooped a hand under Kate's armpit to direct her into her chair, and realized then how light she was, how much weaker. She'd lost weight, a lot of it, a fact that was hidden behind thick and over-sized clothes. He pushed her back into the chair. "Stop," he said, more of a request than a command. "You need to stop this...because I know where you are. I lived in the place where you are now...for a very long time. I know how it's destroying you. I also know where you are going next…and you…don't want to be there. What happened today?"

Kate's head remained bowed but her eyes adjusted up. She leaned forward, closer to the table, and scooted back the bowl that sat in the middle of it, pulling out a business card and sliding it across the table under one finger until it was in front of House.

He looked it over, "The detective? You already knew they were looking at your case. What's changed?"

"What's changed?" Kate nodded, "The cop came back to see me today. Lucy set me up."

"What do you mean…"

"I mean she set up the whole thing…the guy, the gun…everything."

House felt a sick revulsion in the pit of his gut, and watched as Kate pondered the information she was speaking. "Anyway," Kate mumbled against the skin of her arm. "The shooter confessed, took a plea, sold out Lucy, who cried her way to a deal with a ridiculously lenient sentence. Apparently in order for her to get in a lot of trouble I'd have to actually die...guess I screwed that up. At least there won't be a trial…I'm happy about that."

"So this…is you celebrating?"

"No. I'm fucked, House. Even the woman that I thought on some level really cared about me…really, really didn't. I was…disposable. And that shit…hurts. I can't go dating some new girl if this is what I get."

"Not all girls are Lucy."

"I know."

"Then stop acting like this. I care…Cuddy cares…in some weird way, I think Arlene even cares," he said, joking, and getting a small chuckle from her. "I have this theory that she has a thing for you."

"Wow…that's really exciting. Now I'm positive I have nothing."

"You do have me. You have Cuddy. You have work…You even have Wilson and Ann...and they barely know you."

"House…do you know that you probably make four or five times what I do?"

"I didn't realize we were competing…"

"We aren't. You just got married. The two of you earn more money than I'll see for ages. You're growing up," she said to him with a smile.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"This...is a jumping off point for you. You guys are going to be able to get a nice big place somewhere. And you should…I don't begrudge you that. It's ridiculous to think that you need to be my roomie forever. And I can't just follow you like a pet."

"You think that…I'll move and forget about you? That's equally stupid."

"No. I think everything's going to change...very soon. And it's selfish…and I know that it's selfish…I'm used to having you around. I got used to not being alone anymore."

House pondered her words for a few moments, and she thought that he looked sad, and contemplative, and then he looked right at her, "Pull your head out of your ass. This is insane. Try holding a couple hundred dollars in front of me and see if I'll take it to leave. You have a date with a girl you _actually_ like…when?"

"Tomorrow."

"Good, go on it. _Act_ like you want something more. If you walk past this opportunity, then you are creating your own loneliness. And you'll deserve what you get. Allowing this thing that's going on to get the best of you, will take you to a place that you'll be damn lucky to ever leave."

"Yea," she muttered without looking at him.

House stood up to leave and halted, "And call Chase tomorrow, get the information for the neurologist…Foreman. If you are really tired of hobbling around, and fighting to control your hand, you'll at least try to do something about it."

* * *

><p>In the morning, House left to clear his mind by taking a long bike ride. The sense of injustice that he felt over everything that had transpired between his friend and Lucy left a hideous taste in his mouth, and he hated picturing himself as lonely and lost as Kate, but knew he had been there. He had been worse.<p>

Cuddy was in the living room trying to do yoga, a simple forward bend, releasing and feeling the spaces open between her vertebrae. She rose to mountain pose, and was distracted by Kate pacing on the porch.

"Feeling OK today?" Cuddy asked Kate, looking through the door where a piece of glass was supposed to be, and had been, until the incident the night before.

"Yea."

Kate looked nervous, and didn't turn around to face Cuddy.

Cuddy walked over, turned her around and pulled the cigarette from Kate's hand, stamping it out in the ash tray and waving her hand to dissipate the fumes. "You're an idiot," Cuddy said. "Do you want to tell me what you're thinking?"

Cuddy waited, concerned about exactly what was on Kate's mind. "What do you wear…for a date?"

"It depends where I'd be going, I love the simplicity of a sun dress if it's warm, black dress…can you go wrong with a black dress for a formal evening…or royal blue…I have this one pair of jeans for more casual dates that I think House really likes on me, I mean he doesn't say that specifically, but…"

"No, no, no…" Kate interrupted, waving a hand, "I should be more specific, what do _I_ wear on a date?"

"Well…what do you normally wear on a date?"

"I normally wear my bar clothes, and hope to meet a girl there while I'm working."

"How's that going?"

"Well for short term hookups remarkably well…for actual dating…well, if it was going well I probably wouldn't be having this conversation with you."

Cuddy stepped back and looked her over, one arm folded across her stomach, the other elbow resting on it, fingers bent near her lips in thought. "Where are you going?"

"Like a…barbeque thing."

"A barbeque thing?"

"Yea, for her work or something…I dunno. It's just a party. I have hospital work clothes and I have my normal clothes and nothing in between."

"Well…for a party-slash-barbeque thing…jeans'll work. Just…go with your normal stuff. Maybe a brighter shirt? Do you have something with color?"

"Not really."

"Ok…just go with the usual, or stop and pick something up, something that's a really dark purple, maybe a deep green…those colors would look great on you."

"Any general dating advice?"

"You're asking me? You do know it took House and I twenty years to go actually go on a date, right?"

Kate bent her head, "Crap…"

Cuddy giggled, "It'll be fine, trust me. You're beautiful, funny, kind…so stop…acting like people are doing you a favor by hanging around you."

The doorbell rang when the repairmen showed up to replace the missing glass from the patio door. Cuddy put a hand on Kate's elbow and went to answer it.

* * *

><p>When House returned home hours later, a bit more relaxed from his ride, but still a bit lost in thought, Cuddy pulled him onto the sofa. "Feeling better?"<p>

"Yea," he said, adding, "Mostly."

She could tell by his demeanor that he didn't feel like discussing what was going on, so she leaned her shoulder into his and decided to ask again later.

"Well…maybe you can help me with something tonight?"

"I would love to _help_ _you_ with something tonight!" he said, grabbing onto her hip with a suggestive tug.

"I meant…something else…Mom and Julia want to have dinner."

He felt her tense, and hold her breath, waiting for his response. He let out a long, sorrowful groan, "Noooo…"

"Just an hour or two. I think it's an olive branch."

"We could go on the bike…that might help me feel a _little_ better."

She smirked at him, "You were on it for how many hours and you are ready to get back on?"

"I'm assuming I have some time to stretch, and for you to properly service me before we go."

She shook her head with disbelief, "Service you?"

"Don't be offended, it's a mutual servicing."

She chuckled, "Sure. Why not?"

"_Sure_ to the bike or the servicing?"

"Well, I wanted to avoid any lectures from my mother about the bike, and then I realized...if she's lecturing me about that, she's likely not lecturing me about something else…so…yes to the bike. And, I'm figuring that releasing some tension wouldn't be horrible for either of us."

"OK…so we deal with these two items first, then, dinner at your mom's…then we reverse the order and repeat. Sex, bike, dinner, bike, sex. I can sacrifice twenty minutes with your mother to do the rest."

"I'm thinking more like two hours."

"Two hours?"

* * *

><p>They arrived at Arlene's, neither of them thrilled to be there. They both inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly, as Cuddy rang the doorbell while House looked around to consider possible escape routes. When the door opened their eyes were caught by fluttering decorations in the hallway, and onlookers from inside the foyer were greeted by the perplexed faces of House and Cuddy staring at them.<p>

"Come on, hurry up," Arlene said, gesturing them through the door.

"What's going on?" Cuddy asked.

"How many _years_ were you enrolled in 'higher education'? Your wedding reception. I know not to wait for the two of you to actually set something up, you'll be divorced by then," Arlene answered.

"Now there's a greeting card," Cuddy replied.

"A joke," Arlene said quietly before turning back to the crowd, "Everyone, my daughter, and her husband, Greg House."


	85. Chapter 85

**A/N**-_Hello everyone, thank you to all of you who have read, and those who have reviewed...for your insight and inspiration: lenasti16, IHeartHouseCuddy, CaptainK8, JLCH, Akemi1582, Alex, TheHouseWitch, Anonymous, Bakerstreet Blues, Abby, jkv97, iridescentZEN, alddi, Anonymous, Suzieqlondon, LoveMyHouse, HuddyGirl, KiwiClare, suzmum, dmarchl, SissiCuddles, Josam, ClareBear14, and LiaHuddy_

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>Arlene shuffled the couple into the foyer as they scanned the crowd. House felt completely out of his element. His instincts told him, in no uncertain terms, that he should turn around and walk out the door. It seemed nothing good could come out of the evening's activities. The living room was filled with relatives of Cuddy's. At least House assumed they were relatives of Cuddy's. There were several grey-haired onlookers, and a handful of children with their parents. On second glance, three of the children he saw looked like Julia's, recognizable, but quite a bit changed since the last time House had seen them. Seated near the children was Julia's husband, who tried to appear too distracted by a newspaper to notice House and Cuddy's arrival.<p>

When the youngest of Julia's children, a daughter, approached Cuddy for a hug, she felt a pang of guilt for being an absentee aunt, and sat with the girl for a while to catch up. Arlene practically dragged House into the living room to meet family. She introduced him to aunts and uncles, cousins, a rabbi, a few family friends, and reintroduced him to Julia's son and oldest daughter. Both of Julia's two oldest children glanced at House over the top of cell phones without a word. House assumed they had heard numerous stories from their mother about him, none of which would have been positive.

House managed to get Arlene into the foyer again. Cuddy was sitting with her niece, chatting along the edge of the living room. "Why are you doing this?" House asked Arlene.

"What, being nice?"

"I doubt this is you being nice."

"You seem to be under the impression that you and my daughter can just live in some sort of private world. You didn't just elope with her…you married the whole family."

"Sounds great, I can't wait to consummate the whole deal with that one," he said, nodding at an older man with a confused look on his face who was in the corner smashing pastel cream mints and slipping the flattened pieces of candy into purses tucked under the chairs next to him.

Arlene scowled at him. "You want to be married to my daughter? You are part of this family now, like it or not."

"I'm not exactly asking you for Cuddy's hand. I more…decided I wanted it and took it," he said, remembering that it was actually Cuddy who proposed, and considering throwing that fact in Arlene's face, but then deciding against it.

"That may be, but I'm still her mother. I'll still look out for her. And I'm unhappy that I was denied the opportunity to watch her get married. Behaving for a few hours isn't much to ask."

Arlene was called into the kitchen and House breathed a sigh of relief. In the dining room, around the table, were more familiar faces. Wilson, Ann and Adam were there, and at the far end sat Kate and her date. House walked over toward Wilson, who immediately put his hands up defensively, "I'm just here as an observer…this sounded too good to miss."

"Take a walk?" House asked.

Ann nodded at Wilson, who stood up from his chair, "Sure," Wilson said.

The two walked out to the front porch. "Look, if you don't want me here," Wilson said, sounding somewhat hurt.

"I want you here," House answered. "You and I…are like…well you know…we're like any of the classically paired items…take your pick…we're like that. I want you around."

"OK. Well, I said I'm not here meddling, so what's the talk about?"

"I just wanted to…"

Wilson nodded, uncertain about where the discussion was going. "I want you to be my friend," House said plainly.

"I am your friend, I have been your friend for so long that…"

"I mean…" House interrupted, "that I just want you to be my friend. Not my guardian angel, not my cleanup crew, not my conscience. I've grown up, I've earned it."

"Agreed"

"Cuddy and I are trying very hard to act like we're in a grown up relationship. I don't want to screw this up."

"I…actually understand that," Wilson replied.

"Doesn't mean I don't want to go see monster trucks the next time they are in town…which I strangely have tickets for, if you know anyone who wants to go…"

"I haven't been to see monster trucks since the last time we went."

"Me neither," House answered.

"Sure, I'll go," Wilson answered.

"Good."

"You know Arlene actually did call your mother and invite her?"

"She couldn't make it?"

"No...strangely when Arlene called her _this morning_, your mom couldn't seem to get a plane ticket in time."

"She called her this morning...nice." House tapped on the railing for a minute in thought. "I've been thinking…about the meddling…"

"I'm not, House. We're...turning a new leaf…"

"No, I meant… I was thinking about our conversation…and…"

House trailed off and Wilson said, "What is it?"

"I'm telling you this because you are my friend, not because I expect you to fix anything…"

"Definitely," Wilson answered.

"All this talk about you meddling…and trust me…I meant what I said…but, I didn't think about…my own possible association with interfering…"

Wilson smiled, "I think it's natural to want to help the people you care about…good intentions."

"I think…my good intentions almost got someone killed," House answered honestly.

House explained to Wilson the situation with Lucy, and how he had threatened to turn over the security tape to Lucy's fiancée, proving her infidelity. House thought that may have contributed to Lucy reaction. "I think…I might have pushed it too far," he confessed.

"What are you going to do?"

"Anything I can think of probably falls under the umbrella of meddling. So…" House paused, and took a deep inhalation. "I think I need to take my own advice…and not try to fix it."

Wilson nodded, smiling.

"So," House said, sounding a bit rehearsed, "How are you?"

Wilson smiled again at his friend's attempt at normal friendship. "I'm OK. I think I thought I'd be a better dad. I hope I'm doing OK…but I'm not sure."

"Did you ask Adam?" House joked.

"Yea, he's not talking," Wilson answered.

"Why do you think you aren't a good dad?"

"I am a good dad. I just thought I'd be better. I thought it would be so natural, and easy. And it's neither. I guess…I just…don't want to screw it up either."

* * *

><p>When Cuddy was done talking with her niece, Arlene approached her. "You know, there is a rabbi here in case you…"<p>

"Mom, please," Cuddy interrupted. "We're already married."

"Fine, but there's a cake. And I want a few pictures to show the people who thought it would never happen."

Cuddy smiled stiffly.

"Go get your husband, it's time to eat."

When House saw the buffet he wasn't disappointed by the food. "This just completely made it worth marrying you."

"Glad my mother's food made it worthwhile," Cuddy responded.

When Kate's date left the room for a moment, Cuddy walked over to her. "So this is the…barbeque thing you were telling me about?"

"A little lie," Kate answered. "I thought if I told you I was going to a 'surprise wedding reception for my roommates' you might get suspicious."

"Maybe," Cuddy replied. "You look really good in that…I see you shopped."

Kate was wearing her jeans, but with a dark purple fitted button down, and did look like she was taking the date seriously. Kate smiled, "Thanks," her eyes distracted by the woman approaching, and the sight of House following the woman with a wildly approving expression.

Kate's date was Melanie, an accountant, and the woman that came to see Kate at the bar a few days earlier. She carried herself with an impressive confidence and underlying grace, unconcerned with the obvious evaluation being done by House. The two women were subtly flirtatious, but attentive and respectful in their interactions.

In the middle of the conversation, as people gathered near the food, Arlene's voice pierced through the chatter, "Before we eat…" she said, walking toward the couple, "Greg, I was wondering if you'd make the _smallest_ concession to tradition. For me…a sign of your commitment to my daughter. After all, I missed the _actual_ wedding."

Cuddy was, in an instant, wound tighter than House had seen her in quite some time, all eyes focused on the showdown between the couple and the mother of the bride. Cuddy was going to speak, to try to pull her mother aside, to ask her not to ambush them with something horrible so publicly.

House, with remarkable calm, said, "What's that…_Mom_?"

She held out a light bulb, a classic Jewish wedding custom. He smiled and quickly assessed his options. He knew he was supposed to crush the light bulb…symbolic, full of tradition. He wasn't sure if she selected the light bulb instead of a drinking glass because of his leg, or because of the much more satisfying pop it would make when smashed, or as some sort of test.

He took a few steps forward, slowly, steadily, to buy time. He reached down to the table next to her, where her wine glass sat and picked it up. He tipped the glass back, gulping down the remaining wine with two swallows, quickly stooping down to place the glass on the floor and stomping it under his shoe.

He couldn't really hear those in the crowd respond with "Mazel Tov!" through the bright white pain that gripped him initially. Arlene could see from the wince, and the rapid blinks that followed, that the gesture hurt. Probably a lot. Had he been asked, House would have confirmed, the pain for a few moments was completely excruciating. When he was able to refocus his eyes, after beads of sweat formed, and the worst of the horrible stabbing pain began to dull, he saw Arlene in front of him with a very satisfied smile.

She held his gaze for a few minutes, and House got the impression that she was feeling victorious. After looking at her more carefully, he realized she wasn't gloating, she was looking at him with admiration…with respect. It wasn't that she wanted him to be in pain, she wanted to see if he'd make the compromise, and then, if faced with an option, which route he would take. "Well done. If you're going to concede to tradition…it's best to do it properly," she said before turning away. "Let's eat."

Cuddy walked over to his side after people weren't watching him anymore and took his arm, "Oh my god, House…are you OK?"

"Yup," he answered, smiling slightly.

"Want to go lie down for a minute, I can rub it…"

"In your old room?" he asked, trying to look flirtatious through the discomfort.

"I'm not having sex with you here. I think people might notice if the guests of honor are missing."

"Yea. Just give me five minutes."

She did take him to her old room, after mentioning to her mother that he needed a few moments, and casting an appropriate scowl.

"This room is disappointing," he said, looking around at the nondescript décor in a room that held no clues to the life of a younger Cuddy. He could tell the room was used solely as a guest room.

"You think she was going to keep a shrine to me?"

He flopped down on the bed and sighed. "Is this at least the bed where co-ed Cuddy slept on breaks from college and med school…winter break…summer…"

"Umm…" she said, as she leaned down to look at the mattress underneath the covers, "Yea, this was mine."

"Ever fantasize about anyone extra special in this bed?"

"Maybe," she said, avoiding his gaze but rubbing his thigh.

"And these…thoughts…were they satisfied with fingers…or toys?" he whispered.

"OK," she said standing up, "I think you're feeling better."

He tugged her back down onto the bed. "Just tell me. We agreed to be open and honest."

"I'm not lying, I'm just not going to discuss this with you right now…tonight."

"You don't want to do whatever it takes to make me feel better?" he said, with a melodramatic flair.

"I'm not buying it," she said.

"It will distract my mind from the pain," he said, closing his eyes and settling his head back into the pillow. "Tell me. Don't leave out details."

She was sitting next to him, facing him. Her hand slid up his inner thigh and came to rest over his fly, "Fine," she whispered, leaning down next to his ear. "Enjoy it, because it is the only time anything will ever happen here."

He adjusted himself more comfortably into the bed, moving one hand behind his head and laying one on her thigh.

The sound of his zipper opening could sometimes be one of the most arousing sounds in the world. The sense of anticipation filling him was already competing with the feeling of discomfort in his leg. When her fingers reached bare skin all he could think about was what was to come. "Tell me about you, here in this bed," he sighed.

"I remember fantasizing about you once or twice…about going back and finding you at your apartment. I would imagine going back there and letting you lick me. I thought about the way you used your tongue to open me, the way your warm mouth felt."

He jerked his hips upward slightly, pushing himself into her hand. "You use a vibrator?" he asked.

"No, not back then. I'd just reach my fingers into my panties and I'd…Oh, hell no!" she said suddenly, and his eyes popped open.

"What? Don't _stop_!"

She pushed his hand away from the seam of her jeans where he was beginning to touch her.

"This is about you, not me, I'll wait until later."

"I don't want to wait until later."

"So…keep your hands to yourself, and I'll keep going. Where was I... So…I'd slip my nighty up over my hips and slide my fing…House! Stop!" she scolded, pushing his hand away yet again.

"I really need this," he almost pleaded.

"I'm going to help you with _this_," she said, running her hand along his length more deliberately.

"I want to be inside you."

"Not here," she said, her voice shaking as she was obviously tempted by his suggestion.

"How am I supposed to knock you up if you won't let me near you?"

"I let you 'near me' just a few hours ago."

"The time is more right, right now…I can always tell."

"I'm sure."

"I feel this is more of a results based time and location."

She giggled while he pulled her up on top of him. "Am I supposed to let you win this argument every time we have it?"

"I only expect you to 'let me' win an argument when I'm right. So with this particular argument, I guess you should acknowledge that I am always right."

"I thought we weren't trying…I thought we were just letting things happen."

"That is exactly what we keep saying."

* * *

><p>After an intense but brief round of lovemaking, she slapped his chest, "I need to learn some self-control. I always let you talk me into this."<p>

"It's like trying to stop the tides, Cuddy."

She snuck into the adjoining bathroom, trying to collect herself. Her jeans and panties were stuck half way down one leg, and inside out. She was a mess. "I would swear you roofie me, except I know I'm willing and I remember the whole damn thing."

"Says you…while wearing my favorite jeans. Who's really doing the drugging?"

She laughed as they got themselves composed, repaired the room to its previous state of order, and walked over to the door. "We better go eat before people get susp…"

Cuddy unlocked and opened the door, and her mother was standing on the other side with a strange look. "Mom…" Cuddy practically stuttered, "House's…leg…I was making sure he wasn't…"

Arlene pushed them back a step and looked around. Cuddy felt like a teenager again, being caught making out in a car, and was dreading the lecture to come.

"Look," Arlene said quietly to House, "I certainly didn't mean to hurt you. I should apologize."

House and Cuddy waited for what they thought would be an apology, but it appeared that Arlene's only intention was to state that she felt she _should_ apologize, rather than actually apologizing.

"Are you able to come down and eat the food we worked so hard to prepare, or is the pain preventing you from eating?" she said, now sounding more like herself again, with just enough of a snide touch to the question.

"I'm feeling much better now," House said. "Cuddy really worked it for me. Got in really deep, a lot of pushing and pounding, but I think she calmed it enough for me."

Arlene turned around to walk back toward the party, "Wonderful!"

As soon as Arlene turned, Cuddy elbowed House for his obvious double entendre and he smirked victoriously at her.

The food was phenomenal. Eating also gave House the opportunity to observe those around him. It had been ages since he'd been at a real family gathering, with generations of people represented from infants to the completely senile and all things in between. Most people were lost in their own conversations with others in the appropriate clique. Julia pulled up a chair next to House, appearing out of nowhere. "Congratulations," she said, looking at House, and beyond him at her sister. "House, I still hate you."

He put his spoon down and swallowed his food thoughtfully. "You Cuddy's all mince words…"

"Do me a favor…and surprise the hell outta me. Be good to my sister."

House looked at her thoughtfully, but was not confrontational or reactive, remaining observant and curious.

"No matter what, she's my sister. And…I don't want to lose her over anyone…including you. So…can we agree to a ceasefire?"

"Didn't really think we were at war," he replied, "So, sure."

"Julia," Cuddy began.

"I love you Lisa. I'm…looking forward to the day he proves to me that he deserves you," Julia answered, standing to hug her sister, who was still seated in her chair.

Julia and Cuddy spoke for a few minutes while Julia's son leaned over an empty chair toward House, peered over his phone said, "Don't worry about it, she hates me too...and she does that whole 'do me a favor and surprise me' routine on me all of the time."

"She probably doesn't actually hate you," House answered.

"So, were you really in jail?" Julia's son asked with a hint of excitement and admiration, almost as if he were in the the presence of celebrity.

"It's not quite as cool as it sounds," House answered.

"Eddie!" Julia barked, "Go sit with your father."

* * *

><p>The rest of the gathering was relatively painless, although by the time House and Cuddy returned home, they were completely exhausted.<p>

They were drinking coffee in the morning, sitting at the table in the kitchen. They looked at each other when they heard the front door open. Kate wandered into the kitchen, looking nothing like her normally tired morning self. She grabbed a coffee without a word, and walked over to the table, looking over flyers that came with the newspaper.

House looked up at her, "Start the day with the same woman that you spent the evening with?"

"Yea," Kate answered, her eyes still on the paper.

"The woman we met?" he continued.

"Yea"

"Get laid?" House asked.

"Nope! Just hung out," Kate said with a grin.

"You…OK with this turn of events?" House asked.

Kate started walking back to her room, and shouted over her shoulder happily, "Hell yea."

"Atta girl," House responded.

* * *

><p>A week and a half later, at the grocery store, House was thumbing through tabloids, leaning against the cart and pushing it through the store. When they arrived at the checkout, he noticed a box of pregnancy tests when Cuddy put it on the counter. The next morning, when he found a test in the garbage, the electronic display still read-Not Pregnant.<p>

When she saw his face, she knew he knew the result. "Relax, Cuddy. You just got off the pill, and it can take some time," he said quietly, while he played with a circle of condensation from a recently moved cup on the surface of the counter. "We'll...figure it out."


	86. Chapter 86

**A/N**-_Greetings to all of the readers and the reviewers since last chapter: housebound, lenasti16, Boo's House, IHeartHouseCuddy, JLCH, LapizSilkwood, jkarr, TheHouseWitch, Alex, CaptainK8, Bakerstreet Blues, SissiCuddles, Truth, Suzieqlondon, HuddyGirl, Josam, dmarchl, Abby, iridescentZEN, alddi and partypantscuddy.  
><em>

_Note from the last chapter…I was informed that traditionally it is the right foot that stomps the glass. _

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>House and Cuddy busied themselves with cases and weekends working at the bar, saying little or nothing about a child and enjoying the rhythm of life. The next month she took another pregnancy test, found the same result, and was going to say nothing. They weren't supposed to be <em>trying <em>to have a baby, they were just allowing things to happen on their own. That was a simple thing to say, but more complicated in practice.

Cuddy babysat Adam later that week so Wilson and Ann could have an evening out, just as she said she would. Ann was doing well, back at work, very much the picture of the happy mother and career woman. Although it was difficult for many to find the balance, Ann seemed to flourish under the busy schedule and pressure.

Before they left for dinner, Ann kissed her son's forehead, whispered her thanks to Cuddy, and handed Adam over to her. Adam's eyes were now more interactive and engaged, and his smile consumed the lower half of his face, pushing his fat cheeks up under his eyes. Adam was the embodiment of an adorable healthy, robust child, learning, growing, feet and legs vigorously kicking. When Cuddy tickled the space under his arms or chin, he erupted in laughter that seemed to control his entire body.

House sat on the sofa, flicking through channels on the TV, and looked down at Cuddy sitting on the floor. "I love being an aunt!" she said playfully to Adam.

"Lies, Cuddy?" House said lowly, responding to a statement that was clearly meant as a compliment to the child.

"No lies," she looked up at House, her voice firm and steady as she answered, and then turned her attention back to entertaining Adam.

"It can take a few months…Let's try clomid…or go straight for the trigger shot. That's still no tests, no lab work, no blame…just a little nudge."

"No. We are going to let this take over our lives. I can already feel it happening. I do not want us to define ourselves by this one thing. This is what we agreed to. I'm not lying to you. I like our life."

"I do too, but you've been buying the tests…talk about a mixed signal," he said honestly.

"You were bringing it up too," she said in a sweet gentle voice to avoid scaring Adam.

"I'm trying to make you happy."

"I'm not sure if you've noticed or not but…mission already accomplished," she said, looking right at him and dropping the sweet child-friendly voice she had been using. "I'm happy, anything else is extra."

"You are now, but what happens in two or three weeks…" he trailed off, referring to the one year anniversary of Rachel's death. "I'm sure that's on your mind. I thought…good news might help make it easier to get through."

"We'll get through it. It was harder getting rid of some of her things, putting the house up for sale…the anniversary is…just a date."

"Is there something you want to do...go to the grave site…go somewhere she liked to go…or do something you wanted to do with her…"

Cuddy picked up Adam from the floor and held him on her shoulder, standing in front of House, swaying back and forth. "I want…" she said in a soft, soothing voice, "to run away."

A quick smile crossed House's face. "Seriously?"

"Oh absolutely. I want to stop by the grave site. Take something there to make it look a little more beautiful…but that's more for me than her. And then I want you and I to run away again. Because…we going to let the extras take over our lives, and I can handle _a lot_ of shit…but…I can't handle us falling apart."

Cuddy's open declaration of her desire to have him in her life would never grow old. Her ability to allow herself to need him, and openly express that need, showed her degree of dedication to their relationship, and really to him. After spending so much of his life feeling like people couldn't depend on him, that he was too unstable, too selfish, too unpredictable, feeling needed by someone felt remarkably good. Particularly when that person wanted the best for him too. Both House and Cuddy had seen it time and again in relationships: people's own needs were often fulfilled at the expense of the needs of those they were supposed to love.

"House?" Cuddy broke his thoughts with her words, "Is that OK? Is there something _you_ want to do that day?"

"Your plan sounds great. As long as we get this case wrapped up, and can get everything ready. We can go on the honeymoon that we've been putting off."

Cuddy looked down at Adam's face, which was pressed tightly against her shoulder. He fell asleep during their conversation. She smiled at Adam, then at House, "And we'll be gone for part of the holidays to boot. I don't want this anniversary to be a solemn event. I can't promise I won't be a little…sad…and I don't expect you to be Mr. Chipper the whole time either…but I don't want to sit here and rehash the past…relive the loss."

"I like it. I'm definitely OK with it as long as you are."

* * *

><p>Over the next few days, they finished up their case, diagnosing the patient with Goodpasture's and finalizing the case at Penn. They had also cemented plans for a getaway that they were both eager to take.<p>

Cuddy and House were peacefully sleeping in the warm comfort of their bed when they were startled to alertness by a loud thudding in the living room.

She shook House, "Wake up, something's going on out there!"

He rolled, and pulled Cuddy against him, "I'm awake...it's just Kate, probably acting like fucking idiot again. I'll find out what her problem is in the morning."

"I'll check it out," Cuddy said.

"No…don't go out there. Stay here. Sleep. Deal with problems tomorrow."

They heard another loud thud and House's eyes opened. Now he was really awake. And pissed. Kate had been doing so well. She was dating Melanie, the two seemed to be taking things slow, acting like adults, and Kate's outbursts of recklessness were dwindling. She was supposed to be leaving to meet with Foreman to begin a new treatment showing promise in rehabilitation after head injury. Now she was stumbling around the house like a drunken moron again. House assumed she was nervous about the treatment, perhaps about leaving, either way the step back frustrated him.

He and Cuddy were just falling back to sleep when they heard a scream. A loud angry scream. It wasn't Kate. "What in the hell was that?" Cuddy asked, bolting upright.

"I don't know. Do you really want to know what she's gotten herself into now?"

Cuddy started to settle back down and she heard it again. "Is that…I'm going out there."

Cuddy hopped out of bed and grabbed a robe, uncertain of who might be out there with Kate. House sat up, "Wait," he mumbled, "if you go check out the loud bumps in the night, I get to hear about how I let you go out there alone to investigate a possible B&E for the rest of our lives."

He rubbed his leg for a moment, and got up to accompany her, when they heard the shout again. Cuddy left the room without waiting for him.

When she got out to the living room, things were knocked over, and there was a large garbage bag in the living room. It appeared that a lamp and some items from the end tables were knocked onto the ground. Standing in the middle of the room was a tiny figure. The lights were out, except for the lights in the kitchen. Kate came back from the kitchen with a glass, "Here sweetie," she said, stooping down to hand the cup to the tiny figure. Kate jumped, "Fuck! You scared me. Lisa I didn't…sorry…sweetie…fuck…sorry…damnit," Kate was flustered, apologizing to the child for her swearing. "Let me start over. Lisa, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. The harder I tried to be quiet, the louder I got."

Cuddy walked over to the light switch on the wall and flipped the light on. In the center of the living room stood a little, belligerent person, who quickly swatted the glass onto the floor and yelled, "No!"

House entered the living room, saw the toddler and said, "Oh ffffff…" Cuddy scowled, and he changed his tone. "Oh my, who is this?" he asked in a softer tone.

"This is Ava. She's the daughter of a patient who was having a rough day."

Cuddy turned her attention back to the child, who appeared to be having a rough day as well. The little girl had a pink cast on her arm, one of the smallest Cuddy could remember seeing. The child's face was red, angry and tired. "That's fantastic," House said, his voice still soft, "How long is she going to hang out here?"

"A few days."

"A few days?" he asked, his voice showing tension.

"Cup!" the little girl yelled. "Cup now!"

"Can I talk to you in the other room for a moment?" House asked Kate.

"I'll get her a drink," Cuddy offered.

The child jerked away angrily from Kate, who reached out to reassure her before leaving. In the next moment, the child tumbled onto the ground in an all-out tantrum. Cuddy walked past Kate, "Just go, I've got it."

Kate and House walked back into the hallway to the chorus of a protesting child.

"What the fuck's going on?" he asked.

"It's not my fault"

"What's not your fault?"

"The kid needs watched for two days…that's it. She was beaten pretty bad by the mom's boyfriend. So was the mom. Mom needed to be in for the next 48 hours. I talked her into staying, but she was scared child services was going to take her daughter. The kid's been through enough, she needs to be somewhere safe. I promised her I'd make sure Ava was OK just until she gets out."

"This is monumentally stupid. Collecting lost souls is one thing…but getting involved in this...completely idiotic."

"I know. If you would have seen the mother…she's terrified… My other option was allowing her to leave the hospital, and she _needs_ to be in the hospital. This was the only way to…"

"Wait a minute," House interrupted, "You said two days?"

"Yea," Kate said, shifting her gaze to the wall.

"When do you leave for the clinical trial with Foreman?"

"Tomorrow morning," Kate said, looking him right in the eye.

"So who's taking the kid after you leave in the morning?"

"I have a small gap of time without childcare."

"Small gap?"

"The mom gets out Thursday. I'm guessing they'll have her on her way out by 11."

"Which leaves all of Wednesday, and Wednesday night, and Thursday until whenever the mother is ready?"

"Pretty much."

"That's great. I'm guessing Melanie's going to watch her?"

"Melanie's out of town this week."

"Then…I'm sure you talked to Wilson because I know damn well that…"

"Lisa's great with kids…so are you. Your case is wrapping up. Please? As a favor to me?"

As Kate said that, the child was screaming with renewed vigor, not that she had really stopped at any point.

"A favor is stopping at the store on the way home. You want us to babysit a child we don't know…and not just any child, but one who's been abused…saw her mother being abused."

"I just need you to make sure she's safe, clean and fed. That's it."

"You can't expect Cuddy to be involved in this. That's a lot to ask."

"Let's ask her."

"She's…" House pondered the merits of telling Kate about the possibility of the two of them having a child, and then decided against it. "She's still dealing with stuff with Rachel. She doesn't need the additional stress of this. That's a lot to ask…too much to ask."

The tantrum stopped in the other room. Kate looked into the living room, concerned that the child had passed out from insufficient oxygen while screaming. Ava was sitting on the floor, only a few inches away from Cuddy but still avoiding touch. Cuddy sat cross legged on the floor, leaning forward very nonthreateningly with her elbows on her knees. Ava was sipping from a disposable plastic cup and plucking blueberries from a dish on the floor. The child looked at Cuddy after a few moments and said, calmly, as if she'd never been upset in the first place, "Mmm berries. Fank you."

"That's the happiest she's been all night," Kate said to House. "Please, do this for me. Do it for this kid. I will _find_ a way to make it up to you."

"We can't."

"OK," Kate nodded.

"So what are you going to do?" House asked.

"I'll figure something out."

"You're going to withdraw from Foreman's trial...aren't you? "

Kate didn't answer.

"You would…wouldn't you? You really are a gigantic idiot," he said.

House walked out to the living room and sat on the sofa behind Cuddy. He wanted to see the child's reaction to him. He assumed that Ava would react very poorly to a strange man, but she paid him little attention, watching him out of the corner of her eye while she kept eating. Now that House was closer to the child he saw scald marks on the arm that wasn't in a cast, and along one side of the child's neck.

The little girl looked like she had been through hell.

When Ava was done eating, Cuddy coaxed the child into a portacrib Kate brought home from the hospital, picking her up just long enough to lift her over the walls.

They walked into the kitchen and Cuddy said, her eyes filled with empathy, "What in the hell did they do to her?"

Kate told Cuddy about Ava, and how long she needed a place to stay. She told her how the mother was viciously beaten by a boyfriend who was on meth, and that the child was an unfortunate bystander. Although Ava seemed to escape the most vicious part of the attack, she saw everything that occurred from her hiding spot under the kitchen table. When the attacker flung the table in the midst of the rage, and found the child, his anger turned towards her. She had a broken arm, and burns from what they thought was marinara sauce that had been heating on the stove.

Not long after his attack turned to the child, something in him seemed to snap him out of the rage. He put the child on a chair in the kitchen, and left the home he shared with them without another word. Ava retrieved a cell phone and brought it to her mother, who was able to call for help. The two year-old was already a hero.

Cuddy looked like she was going to answer, and at the last moment asked for a few minutes to talk to House privately.

"We'll tell her it's my fault. That I don't want to do it," he offered.

"I can handle this," Cuddy replied. "It's just two days. What do you think?"

"I think this is a huge mistake. Working with this kid's going to be tough. What if you get attached?" he asked.

"In two days?"

"It's hard not to get emotionally involved in this one."

"What if _you_ get too attached?" Cuddy countered.

"Me?"

"Yea. You. If you think it's too much, I completely understand," she answered. "We'll tell her _we_ can't. This has to be a joint decision, so if either of us thinks we can't do it…we shouldn't do it."

"_I_ can handle it," he said with certainty, "I just don't want _you_ to get hurt here."

"I can do this. It's a chance to help someone that _really_ needs our help. In two days, we give her back to her mother…Kate still gets to do Foreman's trial, and the little girl's somewhere safe."


	87. Chapter 87

**A/N-** _thank you so much to all of the readers, and the reviewers of course for sharing their feelings: JLCH, lenasti16, IHeartHouseCuddy, SissiCuddles, partypantscuddy, Mon Fogel, LapizSilkwood, CaptainK8, jkarr, Suzieqlondon, Bakerstreet Blues, dmarchl, Josam, housebound, ClareBear14, IWuvHouse, IW (and again), alddi, Alex, HuddyGirl, Abby, Truth._

**Disclaimer_-_**_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>"Ava's mom has this number," Kate said, pointing at the landline. "If <em>anyone<em> calls from Youth and Family Services, I'm her aunt. Don't lie about anything else…tell them I'm at a clinical trial or whatever you need to tell them. She has an appointment with the burn unit today at 11, to follow up, but the doctor in there yesterday said he thought she'd be fine…they're just monitoring for infection."

"I actually think Cuddy and I can spot an infection," House replied.

"Please, keep the appointment with the burn unit…or someone's going to ask questions," Kate answered while she gathered the last of her things. "I'll see ya, Ava," she said to the toddler, who was sitting in the bottom of the portacrib.

Ava reached for Cuddy twice, but each time Cuddy tried to pick her up, the child would scream and cry.

"Meet the mom Thursday at 11 at the hospital so she can take Ava home. I'll be back in a week. I really owe you guys…thanks," Kate said, hugging Cuddy and patting House's arm on her way to the car.

"Good luck," Cuddy called to her.

The house felt really strange. It was a place where, only hours ago, things were in their places, and now disorder was everywhere. The portacrib was in the living room, and House and Cuddy agreed that it would be better in the spare bedroom next to their room than in the living room. Several of the child's belongings were in a garbage bag, including a teddy bear and a few pairs of clothes and some diapers.

House and Cuddy sat on the sofa, looking at the child in the portacrib. She wasn't crying, but looked like she might want out of the crib. "What do we do now?" House asked.

Cuddy looked down at her watch: 5:30 am. "Change her, give her breakfast, figure out how to get her out of the crib, go from there."

"I'll make breakfast!" he said, opting to take the least child-oriented task on the list.

Cuddy found a clean outfit and diaper in the garbage bag, and walked over to the crib, trying to figure out how to pick up the child without making her scream. "Lay down sweetie, I'll change your diaper."

The little girl sat down, looking up at Cuddy as a child would look at a stranger. Ava had a wispy pile of dirty blond curls on top of her head, with pale blue eyes, and Cuddy imagined she'd have a beautiful smile, should she find a reason to use it. "I'm Lisa, sweetie," Cuddy said, as she brushed a curl out of the little girl's eyes.

Ava didn't flinch at the contact, so Cuddy thought that the child must have been warming up a little. Cuddy gave her the teddy bear that was packed with her things and Ava held it up, "This my baby."

"Oh your baby is very cute," Cuddy answered. "Why don't you hold your baby, and I'll change your clothes."

Ava flopped back, holding her bear over her head. Cuddy carefully lifted the girl's shirt over her head and was looking at House who walked into the room. His expression went blank, too blank, when he looked at the child, and then quickly looked back up at Cuddy before turning around and returning to the kitchen. She shook her head at his strange behavior and started to talk to the little girl when she caught a glimpse of what House must have seen. The entire right side of Ava's torso was purple and red, covered in bruises.

Cuddy looked at the child with kindess, her eyes watering almost instantly, a purely instinctive reaction to a sight of such horror, and then she realized the child was watching her. "It hurts when I pick you up. Doesn't it?"

"Ow," Ava said calmly, looking away.

"I'll be more careful, sweetie. I'm sorry."

Ava watched Cuddy while the woman gently changed and redressed the her. When she picked her up again, she put one hand under her left arm, and scooped the other under the little girl's legs, so she could pick her up without putting any pressure on the bruised side of the child's body. She didn't scream this time when Cuddy lifted her, but she still looked uncomfortable and pushed away until Cuddy put her down and let her walk on her own.

House walked back into the room after a moment, "Does she eat eggs?" he asked Cuddy as he scratched his head.

"Let me check her owner's manual," Cuddy teased.

House stood a few feet in front of the girl, facing her, careful not to get too close and said, "You eat eggs?"

The girl studied him carefully, her eyes discerning and extremely judgmental. House waited for the kid to run, or cry, assuming that she probably hated anyone remotely resembling a male. When he saw the marks down her sides, the extent of the bruising, coupled with the burns and the cast, he had no choice but to walk away, even if for a moment. He didn't want the little girl to see the sadness in his eyes, to feel pitied, or gawked at. After he saw her, he walked into the kitchen to regain his composure. Even a two year-old deserved to be looked at without being seen as damaged.

She continued to watch him, to assess him. He thought about leaving, but didn't want to appear too evasive. He thought about staying where he was, but he didn't like the way he loomed over her. He thought about moving closer, but didn't want to spark fear. He slid further into the room, his motions purposeful and smooth, bracing his cane on the end table, away from the child, and sitting on the sofa.

He leaned back into the seat, looking as unaggressive as possible, one hand clasped over a wrist, and spoke to Cuddy and the girl. His voice was soft, calm, much like the voice he used when deep in thought.

"I can make eggs and toast, or French toast…I like a good French toast. I don't have any bacon. I understand why this will probably leave you with the impression that the meals here are substandard. I'd like to assure you that we will endeavor to provide you with consistently tasty and quality-ridden dishes…" House spoke like that for quite a while, talking about anything as it came to his mind.

Ava eventually sat down on the carpet a few feet away, and began pulling DVD cases down from shelves and stacking them like wide, flat blocks. For a moment, he thought about stopping her, but liked the fact that she was there, getting used to him and the sound of his voice.

For a few moments, things were going fairly well, until his cane slipped from the spot where it was propped against the end table, caught a mug that was sitting on the surface and clattered down. The girl tried to bolt away from the noise, the cast on her arm slowing and frustrating her escape, as she eventually just crawled on two legs and one hand over to the spot between a chair and the wall.

House waited a moment and asked, with the same quiet, gentle tone, "You OK?"

The child began to scream, kicking her feet in a tantrum that sounded full of fear and anger. Cuddy looked at House before walking toward the screaming girl, her progress ceased when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. "Let her go a minute," he said, "You're just gonna scare her."

Cuddy sat next to him, both of them watching the child with concern. When Ava started to calm a bit, he slid his body down onto the ground, so that he was sitting on the floor right in front of the sofa, now much closer to her eye level if she was standing in front of him. Cuddy moved down next to him when he patted the ground. After a few moments of screaming, Ava's voice was nearly hoarse, but she sat up and looked around the room.

House and Cuddy began speaking to each other, using the same quiet tone. Not baby talk, or unnecessarily high-pitched speech, just more muted everyday tones. Ava stood, a bit wobbly, and wandered around the room for a few moments. She circled around the periphery while the adults chatted and watched her. After checking out the rest of the space, she came to the spot where House's cane and the mug were on the floor. She crouched down and studied the cup. Coffee was sinking into the rug, but neither House, nor Cuddy, wanted to stop her from observing the aftermath of the clatter and learning for herself that the space was still safe.

She lifted the end of his cane from the ground a few times and let it fall back down before trotting back over to her makeshift DVD blocks and dropping the few inches back down to the floor. As quickly and tumultuously as the rage hit, it dissipated.

House was rubbing his thigh, absently, trying to reign in any tension he was feeling. "So. Eggs, or French Toast?" he asked the room.

"French Toast?" the little girl responded, "What's that?"

"It's tasty."

"Want that."

House lifted himself up off the floor and onto the sofa before going to the kitchen to make breakfast. When she heard him whipping eggs, Ava stopped what she was doing and looked toward the kitchen with immediate curiosity. She breezed past Cuddy, who followed her to the kitchen. Ava stood a mere foot behind House, trying to see what was going on but unable since his form was blocking the view.

"Hey!" the kid shouted.

House turned, startled, already more unnerved than he wanted to admit by the child, knocking the bowl with the egg back toward himself and splattering the whipped contents all over his sleeping tee shirt. He winced, waiting for the scream from the child that he was certain would follow, and there _was_ a loud piercing sound. The child laughed at him, at the mess he made while he flung egg off of his hand and into the sink.

The laughter was strange, a bit empty, but genuine enough, and it was over much faster than it started.

They ate at the table, Ava bolstered by a hefty unabridged dictionary on a chair, since there wasn't a high chair, the scene provoking memories of the two of them from a few years earlier, acting in some ways like a family as they ate breakfast with Rachel. It was in that moment that the stark contrast between the happy, healthy, loved Rachel and the weary, bruised and beaten Ava became the most obvious. Ava was only a bit younger than Rachel was when he and Cuddy began dating, their ages, at least similar, but the children very different. House looked at Cuddy, Rachel's memory bright in his mind, and had a profound appreciation for what a wonderful mother she was.

Had it not been for Cuddy, opening her home to Rachel, what sort of life would the little girl have lived? Rachel didn't have to go to bed hungry, or in pain. Rachel knew when she cried that her mother, or someone who loved her, would come running, and she was able to accept their love and protection without fear. Rachel, House concluded, was an exceptionally lucky little girl.

Ava enjoyed the French toast that House made, and Cuddy cut into tiny squares, although she was soon a mess. "She'll need a few things," Cuddy said. "She doesn't have much here."

"It's only two days."

"She needs diapers and she's going to need extra clothes if we keep feeding her sticky, messy foods."

"Messy's good," Ava said to the food, provoking a fleeting smile from House.

"I'll make a list, you go, I'll stay here with her," Cuddy offered.

House sighed and looked from the girl to Cuddy. "If you can try to keep it from being an all day excursion, I'll stay here. You know what she needs, it'll take me forever to figure it out."

"We can all go," Cuddy answered.

"No, because if she flips out like that at the store we'll have a bigger problem."

"Are you sure?"

"Just hurry, make sure you are back in time for her appointment."

Cuddy got ready to leave much more quickly than he had ever seen before. He wasn't sure if it was because she was concerned for his welfare or Ava's. Cuddy said goodbye to Ava, then quickly kissed House's cheek and was out the door. Ava watched the short but meaningful exchange of goodbye's between the two adults cautiously.

When House turned back from the door, Ava was standing in the middle of the room, staring at him.

"Wanna watch cartoons?" he asked.

She stared back at him without response. He limped over to the sofa, having put his cane in his room where it would not be knocked over again.

"Why you walk dat way?" she asked accusingly.

"Uh," he looked down and sat on the sofa and slid on the floor. "I have a hole in my leg."

"No!" she said, as if he must have been joking with her.

She put her hand on her hip, "I sayed, why you walk dat way?"

"I have a hole in my leg right here," he said, pointing at his thigh. "It's been there a long time."

She stared again. The kid could stare a hole into anything, and had no concept of when a look was held too long, unless he looked her in the eye. She wouldn't hold a gaze for any longer than it took her to realize she had it.

"Joking me?"

"No," he answered calmly.

"You needa ice pack?"

He gave half a smile, "No, it's OK."

"Fine, but then no whining," she said.

He nodded as she sat down in front of the TV and stared at it until he turned it on.

* * *

><p>When Cuddy returned after an hour-and-a-half, a record feat for her, House was on the floor, head propped on a throw pillow watching remarkably toddler-appropriate television. Ava was a few feet away, watching him in her periphery. Every noise caught the child's attention, every movement waking her senses. House wondered how such a tiny amygdala could keep up with signaling so much anxiety.<p>

She was in an almost constant state of worry. Anxiety and tiredness. Bodies aren't meant to be kept in states of readiness at every moment.

Cuddy had fewer bags than House had expected, and went over to sit near Ava while House dressed for the doctor's appointment.

"You have fun?" Cuddy asked the girl as she showed her the items she purchased.

The toddler looked at her with a little furrowed brow and then back at the TV. When House was ready, he picked up the car seat that Kate left by the door for them to use. He opened the door to go install the car seat in Cuddy's car and she said, "Don't worry, I'll get that."

"I can handle a car seat, Cuddy."

"I don't mind," she offered.

He sneered and walked out, shutting the door just a bit too loudly and provoking another tantrum from Ava, although this one was a bit shorter in duration. Cuddy sat patiently and waited for the tantrum to end. When Rachel was little, one specialist suggested holding her still when she acted up like that, Cuddy couldn't see how that could possibly help Ava. When the fit was over, Ava watched Cuddy's response, which was to smile, still sitting on the floor near the child, as nonjudgmentally as possible. Cuddy had the feeling she and House were the ones in that zoo's exhibit, as the child watched and evaluated almost everything about them.

House came back through the door and shrugged, "I can't get that fucking car seat," he said, stopping when he realized he swore in front of the child, "sorry."

Cuddy stood up from the floor and walked over to him, patting his cheek until his face was low enough and she could quickly kiss him, "You did great with her."

"You don't know that," he mumbled.

* * *

><p>They walked into the hospital, Cuddy carrying the child, catching more than one curious glance from those who recognized them. When they got to the exam room in the burn unit, a resident stood at the exam table and said, "OK, come on...Ava? Right?" in a voice that was just a little too loud and a little too friendly.<p>

Cuddy put the girl down on the exam table and immediately the child began to shake. More than a shiver, her eyes were wide and fearful as she looked around for other threats or perhaps even someone or something that would bring her some comfort. House wasn't sure what she'd possibly find that would make her feel even a little bit better. The resident moved a little too quickly, a small jerk of his hand, when he went to grab the bottom of the girl's shirt, and the girl flinched exaggeratedly.

House could see the scenario immediately, he could watch it play out as if it were happening, his fist pulling back and contacting with burn unit guy's face until he backed away from the patient. Realizing that a display of violence would do nothing for the child, and certainly wouldn't endear him to her, he reached a hand out to still the resident's movements. "We'll get it," House said gruffly as he stood between the young man and the little girl.

He looked at Cuddy and motioned for her to take off the girl's shirt for the exam. House turned while Ava was engaged with Cuddy. "My friend, Ava, has had a bad day. I'm sure it's…unbelievably obvious to a trained professional such as yourself…that she needs to be treated a little more gently than some of your other patients."

The resident nodded, "I'm very gentle, I didn't mean to scare her."

House stepped back out of the way and watched as the child shook while she was examined. "I'm a bit worried about this spot under her neck. Keep the antibiotics on it. It should be fine, but if it gets infected…"

House and Cuddy both knew exactly how much more painful that burn could be if it got infected and more aggressive treatment was necessary. Cuddy swopped in to pick up the little girl the moment the exam was over. They both waited for the child to scream in protest, but Cuddy's hands were carefully placed, avoiding painful spots, and the little girl allowed the contact.

Cuddy assumed it brought her more comfort than it did the child. To their surprise, Ava actually leaned her face against Cuddy's shoulder, breathing as if she'd finished a marathon, probably because, emotionally, she did. Ava accepted the contact, out of a combination of sheer exhaustion and the fact that House and Cuddy were already more familiar and less frightening than anything else around her.

"OK," the resident said, "all we have to do is wait for the attending to come in and do an exam, make sure she agrees, and you're good to go."

"You want her to sit through another exam?" House asked, feeling irritation and anger bubbling up.

"I'm a resident…she sees all burn unit patients before they leave."

House looked over at Cuddy, whose eyes were damp, her face lightly pressed against Ava's forehead. The girl's breathing was just returning to normal and she almost looked like she could fall asleep. "Look we're doctors, the kids been through enough…"

The resident looked at them skeptically, "You'll have to talk to the attending."

"Fine!" House said, walking out of the door to find the appropriate doctor.

Cuddy rocked back and forth and Ava did begin to drift into near sleep against her. She listened as House loudly called up and down the halls for the attending physician.

When House returned, the doctor stood in front of him. She leaned down and looked briefly at Ava's neck and said, "You can go home," nodding sympathetically, "she'll need to follow up again tomorrow."

While they were driving home, Ava quickly fell asleep in her car seat. House saw Cuddy trying to remain disconnected from the atrocities she knew were perpetrated against the child. He reached over to her, automatically placing a hand on her thigh and he could see the tears begin to roll. Her display of emotion triggered his own intense feelings of sadness. "Why…does shit like this even happen?" she asked sadly.

"I don't know," he answered quietly, turning around to make sure the little girl was still asleep.

"No one should ever go through what she's been through…ever…she's just a baby," Cuddy said, yelling but at whisper volume. "She's gone through more in two years than most people have in…"

"I know."

"You were right, I'm not strong enough to be objective…I shouldn't have gotten involved."

"I _was_ right…but if you were able to be objective…" he breathed in deeply, allowing the feelings to exist, but preventing them from overflowing, "…if you _were_ able to be objective about this, I don't think I could love you."

She pinned his hand against her leg as they appreciated the understanding that had grown between them, their ability to not only avoid self-destruction in a moment like that, but to actually find support and share the moment, and all of its emotions, with the other without judgment.


	88. Chapter 88

**A/N**-_hello person reading this note. I enjoyed a lot of the comments on the last one. Thanks to those who left said comments: snatch565, CaptainK8, JLCH, partypantscuddy, IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, housebound, jkarr, Suzieqlondon, Truth, lenasti16, RedTulipAna, viclupa, Josam, ClareBear14, hpMarauder4Life, southpaw2, Alex, Boo's House, HuddyGirl, Abby, IWuvHouse, dmarchl and Mon Fogel._

_If you have trouble finding this story at any point, check my Live Journal account gr8fulinsomniac (my "full" penname was too long…had to use the 8) for updates (and I'll reference the same story title). I fully intend to keep posting here, but wanted a contingency plan. I'm hella neurotic._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>For dinner that night, the little girl ate a surprising amount of food, and Cuddy wondered how often Ava had to worry about the origins of her next meal. She couldn't help but wonder about the mother. What was life like for Ava before the attack? Was the reaction of her attacker an isolated incident, the result of a drug induced frenzy, or was physical violence or neglect something the little girl was unfortunately accustomed to?<p>

After dinner, Cuddy bathed the girl, who was covered in a combination of strawberry juice, ranch dressing and marinara sauce. The food was in the fringes of her hair, all over her clothes, and on her face and hands. For a moment, she looked happy. When the bath started, she didn't like the water, despite Cuddy's best efforts to be cautious of her injuries and keep the burnt skin dry, the toddler was irritated by the bath.

When she came out of the bathroom, House was on the sofa watching TV. Cuddy put the little girl on the floor of the living room to play with a few small toys and House noticed the visible discomfort the child was experiencing. She was rocking her body, pulling at her hair. "Hey," House said quietly, moving onto the floor. "You want to watch cartoons?"

"No!"

"Build some blocks, I can get you some things…"

"No!"

"What do you want to do?"

Ava seemed increasingly irritated. He wasn't sure if it was the day, the stress of events catching up to her, or tiredness beginning to overwhelm her.

He wished he had a piano there, but finally asked Cuddy to get his guitar. He played something soft and lazy, a calming improvised piece. The playing definitely didn't irritate her. She moved to the space right in front of him and lay down on the carpet, half watching him and half kicking her feet slowly in the air. When he finished the song, she spoke. "Do baa baa black sheep!" she ordered.

House looked startled, "I don't know that one."

"Yes. You do," Ava accused.

"I don't remember it, you'll have to sing it first."

She stood up, right in front of him, and looked him in the eye for a moment, as if a challenge, and then dropped her gaze. She started slowly and softly, the volume gradually increasing, "Baa baa black sheep habya-ahna woooo…"

After the opening line, her lyrics became hums, the actual words clearly forgotten, with slightly swaying hips almost dancing to the tune. When she finished, he golf-clapped and said, "OK, do it again, this time I'll play along."

Ava's eyes grew wide for a moment when he started to play along with her singing. When she'd stop, he'd stop. When she'd begin, he'd begin. She dropped down onto her backside and held one of her feet as she exploded in giggles, finding her control over the situation very amusing. Cuddy came back into the room and couldn't help but tear up when she saw her husband, a man in his 50's, over six feet tall, and unkempt, commonly seen only for the very worst of him, folded over a guitar, playing a nursery rhyme, and making a child who had every reason to be miserable burst into laughter.

The toddler saw Cuddy, saw her eyes welling up, and bobbled over. Ava lifted her stubby fingers to Cuddy's hand, taking it in her own, and said, "It's ay-ight. Come on for the man to sing."

Cuddy smiled as the toddler led her over to the spot in front of House. "You tell him what he sings," Ava said, more of an order than a request.

Cuddy crouched down on her haunches and looked at House, "Play something for me, you pick."

"Do you think she knows any Sir Mix-a-Lot?"

Cuddy bit the inside of her cheek, suppressing a smirk, "I don't think so."

Ava suddenly grabbed House's face between one hand and her cast. She stopped for a second and looked at her hands, undoubtedly confused by the feeling of his face, but then quickly recovering and grabbing his face again to make sure she had his attention. "Ava knows all the songs!"

House tried not to laugh at the rebuke he received from the girl, "OK. What do you want to sing now."

"Twinkle little star."

"That's pretty much the same as Baa baa black sheep."

"No's not!" Ava answered.

"Well the words are different, but the…the…" He decided to forego the argument and play the song for the adamant little girl.

Ava went to sleep easier than they had anticipated, she allowed Cuddy to rock her and tuck her into her crib. She seemed quite fond of both of her temporary caregivers.

"I like her," House mumbled as they were falling asleep.

"She likes you," Cuddy answered.

"Weird hunh?"

"Not really. You were a calm, no drama, source of entertainment."

His eyes popped open, "Would you have used any of those terms to describe me before?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Individually yes, just probably not all in one given moment," Cuddy chuckled back.

She yawned, and started to fall asleep.

"Hey, Cuddy?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes?"

"She's really not scared of me…is she?"

"Of course not. Why?"

"Lots of people are."

"Not those of us who know you. I found you shocking from time to time…Your bark was pretty vicious, although…I've always preferred your bite," she giggled, and he softly bit her neck. "I think," she said, "that she probably feels a little safer with you around."

"There is that wave of people choosing crippled body guards…I hear we're in demand."

She laughed, "Go ahead, make a joke." She spun around to face him, "sometimes…I kind of feel safer."

"Right," he laughed.

"I'm serious. Plenty of very fit, very muscular, guys would run and save their own skins before giving a shit about anyone else around them."

"True…I can't run."

"Idiot," she replied, playfully smacking him, "You don't think I know what you'd do to protect me. The lengths you'd go to?"

"Well…I can see why you'd think of me when you think of great lengths."

"Deflection! Fine. But it's true. We both know it's true," she said, before rolling in the circle of his embrace and pulling his arms tighter around her.

"She feels safe with you too, Cuddy."

"Now you're gonna be a jerk?"

"I'm not. That kid knows you'd gnaw someone's head off for her. I know you were like that with Rachel."

"My means of providing protection is gnawing?"

"More of a super power."

"Sounds messy."

* * *

><p>Ava was screaming when she woke at 2:30am. Cuddy told House she'd get the girl. When she went into the room, Ava was holding the bars of the crib, crying, her eyes red and watery, her lip quivering with each scream. It sounded like she was trying to say something, but Cuddy couldn't figure it out, "Catchah, catchah," over and over.<p>

Ava moved away when Cuddy tried to pick her up, repeating the same unintelligible word. Cuddy turned to go get House, hoping that he could discern what the child was trying to say, but he was already there, walking through the door.

The girl stopped screaming, "Hi," she said to House.

"Hi? All that screaming, and you just wanted to say 'hi'?"

Her lip quivered, "Come here, catchah."

House handed his cane to Cuddy and approached the crib. Leaning down and delicately placing his hands around the child, he lifted her out of the crib and leaned her against his chest. She reached up and patted his face, "Catchah."

"Scratchy," House said to Cuddy, pointing to his chin with his free hand and explaining what the child just said. "What do you need, kid?"

"You can sing. And rock," Ava said as she buried her forehead against him, the tiny warmth of her soaking into him.

He took his cane from Cuddy and went out to the rocker in the living room. He sung a few songs and the girl fell back to sleep, cuddling calmly on him. He put Ava back down in her crib and returned to bed. Cuddy moved closer to him, the thin fingers of one of her hands wrapping around his shoulder, her nose brushing his jaw line.

"When I was a kid…when everything sucked…" he said gruffly.

Cuddy's eyes opened when she realized House was discussing a topic he rarely broached. She tightened her grip on him only slightly, so he'd know she was engaged in the conversation.

He continued, "I had no idea that anything felt this…good."

She sighed appreciatively.

"If I would have known, then I could have had something to look forward to on all of those nights when I thought nothing in the world would ever make up for what life was like."

"I'm sorry…" she said, her voice heavy.

"What?" he asked stunned, "why should you be sorry?"

"I wish I could have helped you."

"When I was a kid you were a baby yourself."

"I still wish I could have helped you."

"You can help me now," he replied quietly.

"Sure," she said running her hand across his stomach.

"No…that's not what I meant," he chuckled. "You feel good like this too, we just don't have to ever admit that I said that to anyone else."

* * *

><p>In the morning they heard a soft chatter coming from the room next to theirs. "Two days felt like such a long time…and now…in a few hours she'll be gone." Cuddy said. "I wonder what she's going back to…"<p>

House stared up at the ceiling silently.

After breakfast, Cuddy gathered Ava's few things, and the new things they bought for her. When she went into the kitchen, she found House finishing breakfast dishes while Ava sat on the counter next to him, watching his every move. "People are occasionally gigantic assholes," House said to the little girl, under the mistaken impression that they were alone, "actually, people are _usually_ gigantic assholes. It's something you'll just have to deal with. We'll give your mom our phone numbers, in case she ever needs a break or anything. OK? You can always come hang out."

Ava reached over and splashed a hand in the bubbles in the sink.

After all of the child's things were packed, the trio went to the burn unit for Ava's follow-up. When they got near the burn unit, she began to get restless. She clung to Cuddy as they grew closer to the door. The doctor was waiting for them this time, a vast improvement over the resident from the previous day's visit.

"Well, Miss Ava," the doctor said, as she finished the brief exam, "you look like you're doing fine. If you guys see any problems, let me know, if not, we'll see her next week."

"She's going back to her mother today," Cuddy said with a grin too polite to be genuine, "but we'll let her know."

They left the room to find the mother, who was going to be discharged from the hospital in a few minutes. As they walked down the hall, House reached for the kid, completely unprovoked. "You throw unnecessary tantrums, call me names, are extremely demanding and make huge messes! Are you sure you aren't ours?" he joked with a calm voice, looking at her suspiciously.

Ava watched him, with her observant eyes. "But," he continued, "you have a lovely singing voice, a great sense of humor, and…well…you're kinda fun. So anytime you want to stop by and see us, just let your mom know. OK?"

"Kay," she answered, leaning against him in an armless hug.

He quickly handed the child over to Cuddy, feeling a bit too attached for his own liking, particularly after such a short amount of time.

"Alright, little one," Cuddy said, preparing to push the door open, "You can stop by and see us. It was nice meeting you."

Cuddy shook her head, trying to discourage any display of emotion until after Ava was safely back in her mother's arms, and felt a momentary concern that after all of the time Ava was with them, she had never asked for her mother. She thought for a moment about turning back, asking a psychologist about the behavior, or talking to a caseworker, and tried to clear the thoughts from her head, realizing that her motivations were likely more selfish than altruistic.

House reached past her, opened the door, and gestured for Cuddy to walk through. There was a woman standing by the tray table, dressed in business attire, the hospital bed freshly made and the room clean and vacant, other than the woman and the hospital furniture. "Kate Vega?" the woman asked Cuddy.

"Umm, no, Dr. Vega had a clinical trial to see to, I'm a doctor, I work here and at a few other local hospitals. This is my husband, he's also a doctor here."

Ava buried her face closer to Cuddy's neck.

"I'm the social worker assigned to look out for Ava...and her mother. Can we get someone to watch the little girl for a moment so we can talk?" the woman asked.

A nurse standing outside tried to take the child, who refused to leave, hanging on desperately to Cuddy's shirt. Ava started throwing a tantrum, and House spoke, calmly, "Which song do you want to sing next, Ava?"

The girl paused slightly and leaned over toward him. He took her from Cuddy, his hand much larger than the girl's back, and took her for a walk into the hall, allowing Cuddy to speak to the social worker.

"Ava's mother left the hospital this morning, sometime between her 7:00am vitals check and the 7:30 arrival of breakfast. Do you think you, or Dr. Vega would be able to keep her for a few more days, give the mother a chance to get herself together? She was through a…vicious attack. I'm sure she's just not thinking clearly. If the mother doesn't return, or needs additional support with her daughter after that, we can get Ava into a proper foster home."

Cuddy nodded, trying not to smile too widely, "Let me talk to my…"

"We'll do it," House said from the doorway, listening in on the conversation before turning down the hall, whistling contently.

"I can arrange to extend the temporary custody. I'm hoping that will be enough. If we don't hear from the mother in a timely manner we'll have to do something more formal. I can take the child now, put her in a foster home, but then that's 3 homes plus a stay in the hospital in less than a week. Plus, Ava seems very comfortable with the two of you. At least on a temporary basis, that seems like the best option."

"OK," Cuddy responded, her heart much lighter at the thought of keeping the child for a few more days.

"Will Dr. Vega be caring for the child or will you?"

"As soon as she's back, we probably all will be. We live in the same house."

"Oh. OK. Well, I'll be by in a few days with a status update, and of course temporary custody can only last so long without more formal arrangements being made, since you are doctor's here, that makes it a bit easier, I'm sure you have Child Abuse clearances on file and such, I can pull them from HR. Can I just get some basic information about each of you?"

"Sure."

Cuddy called Kate while she was in with the social worker to get some of her information. Cuddy could hear incredible guilt in Kate's voice when she realized that her request for her friends to watch the child for two days became a bigger sacrifice than she had originally anticipated. Cuddy assured Kate things were going fine, and insisted they'd talk when Kate returned home in a few days.

When the paperwork was finished, Cuddy walked out into the hall, finding Ava sitting on House's knee at the nurse's station desk, happily drumming with a pair of tongue depressors on an overturned bedpan and a pink kidney-shaped vomit basin.

Cuddy touched House's shoulder and he turned his attention to her. She whispered, "Are you sure you are OK with this?"

He flashed a tiny half-grin, but his eyes displayed not only his agreement, but his happiness that they could keep the child around for a few more days.

"Ladies?" he said aloud, "Ready to go home?"


	89. Chapter 89

**A/N**-_thanks to all of the readers and reviewers since the last installment: JLCH, harpomarx, iridescentZEN, jkarr, IHeartHouseCuddy, SissiCuddles, TheHouseWitch, C. S. Tolkien, housebound, Suzieqlondon, Akemi1582, partypantscuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, Alex, CaptainK8, Islazybones, KiwiClare, lenasti16, Mon Fogel, Josam, ClareBear14, byte size, Zaydasky, dmarchl, hfspc, HuddyGirl, Abby, IWuvHouse, LoveMyHouse, newdayz, alddi and bonnieyy77._

_Not sure if I'll be able to update any more this weekend. I'll see what I can do. If not, definitely Monday.  
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**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD_

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><p>Ava did well the following two days with the somewhat smitten pair of doctors. She was temperamental, swaying between bouts of anger, sadness, tenderness and complete joy, but House and Cuddy waited patiently through the tantrums, offered support during the sadness, shared the tenderness, and reveled in the joy. The child experienced the gamut of emotions in shorter time frames, but both House and Cuddy could relate to moments in their lives where feelings plunged or ascended with rapid, uncontrolled vigor. Ava seemed, even after a few short days, to be growing a bit more comfortable with her surroundings, her happier moments increasing in length and frequency.<p>

Saturday, Wilson called to talk to House. Midway through the conversation, Ava started singing.

"Is that...Cuddy?" Wilson asked.

"Yea…I used my shrink ray on her, that's why her voice is so squeaky."

Wilson could hear in the background, although muffled, a tiny voice saying, "I am not queaky, you are queaky."

"Is that a…a child?" Wilson asked.

"Yup."

"Where did it come from?"

"Well, when two people love each other very much, or when two people who don't really like each other are exceptionally intoxicated…"

"Shut up, House," Wilson interrupted. "Seriously, why is there a child in your home?"

"Cuddy and I are…taking care of her. She is…Kate's…and ours…Kate's and ours."

"You're joking."

"I'm definitely not."

"I thought Kate was with Foreman this week."

"She is. Which is why the kid is with me right now."

"How long have you had her?" Wilson asked.

"Four days."

"This is…unbelievable. So…tell me…what have you learned during these four days?"

"That overturned bins designed to catch bodily fluids make wonderful musical instruments."

"Don't blame the kid for that one…I'll bet you knew that before."

House told Wilson the short, but detailed enough, version of the story, and Wilson and Ann were eager to meet the little girl. The Wilson clan would be their first visitors. House and Cuddy discussed it, and agreed that it was probably best for the girl to get used to other people. House warned Wilson that he wasn't really certain how Ava would accept the newcomers, but they all agreed that it was worth a try.

When Wilson and his family arrived, and walked through the door, Ava was coloring on the floor with Cuddy. The child stood, and cautiously evaluated the strangers. Ann placed the car seat down on the floor with the sleeping baby buckled safely inside. Ava gasped, "Is that…a baby?"

"Yea," Cuddy said, kneeling down next to the girl. "His name is Adam, and he is very nice."

"Awwww," the girl said, looking at the baby with admiration.

She was completely intrigued by the boy, watching him quietly, and holding almost completely still while she looked at him.

"Is this the first baby you've ever seen?" Cuddy asked.

"It's the first baby _ever_," she said, shifting her attention to the new adults in her living room.

When Cuddy hugged Wilson and Ann, the girl relaxed a bit. Wilson seemed immediately fond of the girl, amazed by just how comfortable and natural House was with the child, and the child was with him.

They watched Ava carefully while she was near the baby, in case she was startled, or had an episode, but she seemed to innately understand the tenderness that was required for dealing with an infant. After they were there an hour, Ann pulled Cuddy aside. "So…is this a potential adoption?" Ann asked.

"No…well, I don't know," Cuddy hesitated. "She's here…for now…we'll have to give her back to her mother, when she comes to her senses, if not, then…I guess we'll figure it out at that point."

"How does she sleep?"

"Umm…she's usually up a couple of times a night."

"Must be quite an adjustment, from being just the two of you…to suddenly having a child again."

"I guess," Cuddy answered.

"Have you guys had any time to yourselves since she came?"

"It's only been a few days," Cuddy responded. Seeing the remaining question on Ann's face, Cuddy said, "Not really no. I'm sure once Kate's back it will help."

"Go to dinner. Tonight," Ann said.

"Oh, I couldn't," Cuddy answered.

"You could...and should."

"What if Ava has a rough time?"

"So go somewhere right down the road…you'll be…maybe 5 minutes away. If there's a problem, we'll call you."

"Ann that's really sweet…"

"You did it for me. Why can't I help you?" Ann asked, before she went further into the room and knelt down by Ava, "Hey, Ava? Lisa and…House…can they leave for a little bit? Maybe you could stay here and help me with the baby?"

"I can help," Ava said, sitting dutifully next to her new, tiny friend.

House and Cuddy got ready to go quickly, "I'll be back before bedtime," Cuddy said to the girl.

"You can come back too?" Ava asked House.

"I always come back," he responded.

Cuddy and House were in the car, more alone than they'd been in days. They decided to run up to the bar, since it was close, and they knew they could quickly get service and get back home.

When they walked in, the place was packed with couples dancing and patrons drinking. The staff members Kate hired more recently were working, but the place looked strange on a Saturday night without House or Kate behind the bar. The tables were all full, except for one in the corner. House held the table for them while Cuddy went to get drinks. He sat down in the chair and caught sight of her, weaving through the crowd, and felt a familiar jolt of longing. If his libido had been slightly muted from the strains of temporary guardianship and stress, a moment without his new obligations seemed to unmute it rapidly.

When she parted the crowd minutes later, emerging on the other side of the sea of dancing couples to return to him, his eyes were waiting for her. Her focus was on returning to the table, navigating through chairs, and dancers, and an impromptu wall of male twenty-somethings that looked almost twice her size since she was wearing flats. Once she made it past them, her eyes caught House, and the subtle grin on her face was almost immediate. She sat down across from him and said, with a teasing lilt, "What are you lookin' at?"

He leaned onto the table with his forearms, and continued looking her over. "Hang on, I'm not done yet," he replied. "God, Cuddy…you look so good."

She laughed, "It's the ground-in applesauce on my left shoulder."

"So sexy!" he said, leering suggestively. "And…there is no applesauce on your shoulder. You _really_ look so amazing."

"Thank you," she said, almost shyly. "I've missed you…like this…"

"So…if we have a kid…permanently, does it mean we'll have to stop…being like this?"

"We were like this before…we had a kid before…"

"True."

"Trust me, House, things have been a bit hectic. We're getting used to her, she's getting used to us...it's an adjustment. But it's insane to think that we could suddenly rid ourselves of one of the defining characteristics of our relationship. We would have to make sure to make time for each other."

"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

She smiled, "I know, me too." She reached her hand across the table and touched his forearm. When he looked down at it, she pulled her hand away.

"What was that?" he laughed.

"I don't know. I made you uncomfortable."

"No you didn't. We're being weird. And I know why, it's because we haven't had sex for like...3 months."

"More like 3 or 4 days."

"A lifetime."

"Kate will be home soon."

"I'd rather have sex with you, she _constantly_ whines about the manly parts."

Cuddy was laughing, audibly, the stresses of caring for a small child pushed aside for the moment. House grinned, "I like making you laugh," he said, before he shook his head with disbelief that the phrase which had formed in his mind had left his mouth.

"Kate will be home soon…so we will have some more time to ourselves," Cuddy clarified.

"Oh, _that's_ what you meant!" he said sarcastically, extending a hand to her after he stood up.

"What are you doing?"

"Dancing."

"Here?"

"No…dancing's all the rage in Kalamazoo, so if you want to get in on it, we better start walking now."

She stood up, "There are a _lot_ of people you know here."

"OK," he said, pulling her closer, pinning her hand against his chest under his own larger hand, and dancing right next to their table.

After swaying in comfortable silence for a few minutes, she leaned up to his ear, "This was a bad idea."

"I don't care if they think I'm nice anymore," he started to say as he pulled his head away to look at her face.

"No, it's not that," she said with a smile. "Being so close to you like this…"

He looked at her blankly until she raised an eyebrow and slipped her knee further between his legs.

"Oh," he said, with a heavy-eyed, amused look. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm. Still can't be close to you for too long without...thinking."

"Wanna get out of here?" he said, as he immediately felt a quickening in his pulse and his brain honed in on his goal.

"And go where?"

"Motel?"

"We don't have very long."

"Car?"

"No! We'll get caught by fifty people who know us when my ass hits the horn or I bump the shifter with my elbow and we drift into traffic."

"Fine then, home?" he suggested.

"Home?"

"Why not? There's a babysitter."

"No. I'm not asking them to distract the kid so we can go to our room for sex."

"OK, so…we wait?"

"God no!" she said, nodding toward the front of the bar. She took a healthy slug of her drink, and grabbed his hand. "I have an idea."

They walked back to the office where the shift manager was sitting. "Hey," the woman said, "I didn't expect to see you guys here."

"Yea," Cuddy said, adding in a very authoritative tone, "Look, there are some issues with the books that Kate wanted us to check out. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," the woman said, as she left the office.

Cuddy locked the door and turned toward House with a victorious look. "Alone!"

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, shocked at her brazenness.

"Quilting, I'll teach you," she teased, and suddenly she was grasping handfuls of the fabric of his shirt to pull him in for a kiss before she pushed his jacket off of his shoulders.

"Wait," he said, too distracted by his need to kiss her to think any further. During the previous few days, their contact was limited to pecks on the cheek and sleepy embraces, and while such things were _nice_ they didn't meet the needs of either of them for very long. While they kissed, locked in Kate's office, hands glancing over clothes, the caresses became more purposeful and defined rather quickly.

"Are you really going to do this here?" he asked.

"Are you _really_ going to ask questions the entire time?" she said impishly, yanking off her top and removing her bra without formality.

She leaned against a filing cabinet to remove her boots and slip her jeans down over her hips. He watched, unmoving, enjoying the sight of her practical removal of the impediments to their shared goal. She'd stripped for him before, put on amazing shows that drove him to heightened states of arousal long before he could feel the warmth of her approaching him. Standing there, systematically removing her clothing because she wanted to make sure that she had the time to be with him, was an incredible compliment and a turn on in its own right.

She was quickly by his side, the often employed masterful art of seduction that she was so versed in, ignored for this encounter. "You gonna willingly take off your clothes too…or should I get the scissors?"

He smirked, and pulled her against him, her small, naked and needy body next to his almost entirely clothed one. He couldn't deny the appeal of a woman, who was so often in control, standing vulnerably in front of him. It would always be enticing, one of those constants in their dynamic that never seemed to fade. What he didn't realize was that she also loved the feeling of vulnerability she could find with him. With him she could let down her guard to a degree that she simply couldn't with anyone else. She would always feel some sense of vulnerability, but it wasn't because she didn't trust him. It was because what he thought, what he saw, what he felt…_mattered _to her. And he thought and saw and felt everything.

He watched her intensely, only losing his gaze when his shirt covered his eyes while he removed it. When she moved against him again, he could feel her against his bare skin, and enjoyed that very different sensation with equal gratification.

"I wish time wasn't a factor here…" she said, "because I would love for this to last all night…but we don't have much time."

He smirked, only momentarily, before kissing her again with a full expression of his need.

The sensation of soft skin and warm bodies sliding together, the feeling of actually joining breath, was like coming home. Neither could believe how much they needed the connection, how much they needed to be as close as humanly possible. They found their union hard and soft, slick and warm, inviting the pleasantness of friction, and forcefulness, of give and take. Expressions of sweet sentiments, and visceral needs, whispers of commands and pleas, were exchanged between open lips and eager ears, heightening each sensation until the joy of simultaneous completion.

Their encounter was brief, intense and luxurious, a taste of a stolen morsel enjoyed during the fleeting moment it could be savored. Unorchestrated and frivolous, they found their needs sated as their hearts pounded against each other, and breaths intermingled.

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><p>When they got home, Ava was very happy to see them, even after a short absence. House watched as Ann whispered something to Cuddy, and Cuddy shrugged and nodded slightly. Ann huffed and walked over to Wilson, who held out his hand and she slapped money into it. Wilson smirked knowingly at her, "I told you!" he said.<p>

House looked at him with a question in his eyes.

"Your hormones and mutual lack of self-control," Wilson said, looking back and forth between House and Cuddy, "have made me rich…_again_. Thanks!"

"I would pay twice what you just made, to do what I just got to do," House shrugged.

"Hey, what you do?" Ava asked House, who uncharacteristically stumbled for an answer.

"Did you see that?" Cuddy asked animatedly.

Ava turned to look at her. "That baby just did the cutest thing!" Cuddy said, pointing at Adam.

House was impressed by Cuddy's quick response, "We'll have to figure out ways to make sure your nearly unending needs have time to be fulfilled," he said, tossing the back of his hand up onto his forehead.

"Wilson…" House said with a tone of insincere desperation, "any suggestions of ways for Cuddy and I to keep the flames of love burning that don't involve a stolen moment on the hood of your car."

Wilson grimaced, "First of all…I sincerely hope you're joking. Second…_thank you_ for yet another image I'll have to desperately try to erase from the frightened recesses of my mind. Finally…_if_ I were to get involved in this situation…like that…it would no doubt be considered…meddling. So I'll have to pass. But good luck though."

Wilson smiled at his friend as he swaggered over to his wife's side.

At the end of the evening, Cuddy was putting Ava to bed, Ann was in the car with the baby, and House and Wilson were saying their goodbyes. "She's a cute kid, House." Wilson said. "And…you're doing a phenomenal job with her."

House looked at Wilson, immediately assuming that such a statement must have been sarcastic, but Wilson's face was entirely sincerely. "If you guys need a babysitter…let us know. We'll swap nights again, after all…I like the hood of your car too."

House smirked at his friend, "See ya, Wilson."


	90. Chapter 90

**A/N**-_I'm back. There should be daily updates this week. I have each day pretty much ready to go through Thursday (written, just have to do some final editing). Sorry for my crappy updating the last few days._

_I'd like to thank the readers and reviewers: KatieF-House, housebound, Way Worse Than Scottish, JLCH, IHeartHouseCuddy, alddi, southpaw2, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, IWuvHouse, SissiCuddles, lenasti16, yahnis, ClareBear14, Josam, dmarchl, TheHouseWitch, Ann, partypantscuddy, huddy4ever, Bakerstreet Blues and PrincetonBlues  
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**Disclaime**r-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

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><p>Wednesday morning, Kate was nervous. She was going home following a week as a participant in Foreman's new therapy for retraining the brain after trauma. Cuddy and House had largely avoided her questions about Ava, stating only that it seemed everything was fine, and they would talk to her when she returned. When she walked into the living room of her home, things were suspiciously quiet, the only information she could find was in the form of a note from House left on the kitchen counter. It stated simply: <em>Went to work. Get your ass in the office.<em>

Kate sighed and rubbed her hands together nervously. She looked around her home, and took in the strangeness of the transformation that occurred during her absence. There was a high chair next to the table that Cuddy removed from storage for Ava, one of the few toddler items she kept after Rachel became too old to use it. There were toys, including a container filled with blocks, a play telephone, and a tiny shopping cart filled with plastic food, all in the living room. Stretched over the dish strainer were recently washed bibs, and smaller than normal utensils designed for a toddler's hands.

Kate could easily see exactly how high Ava could reach. In each room, House and Cuddy child proofed, and lifted all dangerous or breakable items above where Ava could get to them.

After traveling a couple of hours, Kate really had to pee. She half jogged to her bathroom, and found the door wouldn't open because of a safety latch that was installed well out of the reach of a two year-old. She unlatched the lock, burst into the bathroom, tried to flip the toilet seat open, and was again foiled in her attempt to do something that was ordinarily so simple. She turned around and inspected the lid, finding a large latch holding it in place. It took her far longer than she'd ever admit to figure out how to open it. As she washed her hands, she realized that she hadn't felt such an accomplishment from simply peeing since she was a toddler herself.

Kate arrived at the hospital, standing outside of the door to House and Cuddy's office, and taking a deep breath as she opened the it. Sitting behind House's desk, in his chair, was little Ava, with Celia happily doting on her from a chair scooted up close to the desk. Celia was playing with the child and giggling at her expressions and the fractured stories she was telling. "Hey there," Ava said to Kate, waving hello by opening and closing her hand.

"Hey?" Kate responded, more a question than a greeting.

"This child is so adorable!" Celia said, picking up the girl and holding her close, resting her chin atop Ava's head before returning her to her chair.

Kate approached Ava carefully, remembering the sadness, anger and frustration the little girl exuded the last time she saw her. Ava was scribbling, a marker in each hand, on a large yellow legal tablet. Kate knelt down next to Ava and said, "How are you?"

"Good."

Kate stared at her, awed that the child looked so much calmer, so much more functional, after only a week. "You OK?" Ava asked, patting Kate's arm and sounding very close to patronizing.

"Yea, little one." Kate said before she turned her attention to Celia, "So, how mad is House?"

"Oh he is so very, _very_ mad. You might want to leave now before he gets back," Celia responded with another giggle.

"Crap," Kate said, dropping her head onto the top of the desk.

House and Cuddy burst through the door, "Hey there you guys!" Ava said happily.

House stood in front of Kate, "We have a last minute case we have to figure out, can you take junior home after dinner?"

"You don't look mad," Kate said to him.

"You..don't look green," he countered.

"I figured you were mad."

"Not mad," House answered, "but, as I said, we need your help now that you're back."

Kate walked over to Cuddy while House studied Kate's walk. "You actually look like you are moving better!" he said.

"Oh, I am," Kate answered, "but I have a few weeks of this. Foreman was nice enough to set me up here, Altland's giving me one of his interns to administer the treatment, and record results. I'll keep a journal and let Foreman know how things are going. I'm part of the study…but unofficially."

She hugged Cuddy, "Wow, I saw you childproofed the _whole_ place, I could barely figure out how to pee."

Cuddy shook her head no.

"I was there…I saw it. Are you going to deny that the place is baby proofed?"

"No, I _admit_ the place is baby proofed…but, _I_ didn't do it" she said, pointing across the room at House.

"You?" Kate asked.

"I can't follow right behind her every second of every day…she's fast! Precautions had to be taken!" House said.

Celia smiled at the group, "I'm going home, now that you are here," she said to Kate. "See all of you soon, we'll do Sunday dinner at my place after you are back from your lover's holiday."

House and Kate agreed to go to the cafeteria to get food for the four of them.

Ava hopped down from the seat and stood between House and the exit. "You coming back?" Ava asked, while standing stubbornly in front of him.

"I always come back," House answered. "Go keep Cuddy busy, I'll get you some nuggets and fruit."

Ava put a finger to her lips in thought, "What about milk?"

"Yea, milk too."

She was satisfied enough with his answer and returned to Cuddy and her drawing.

Kate was still waiting for House to express his discontent over being left with the child.

"Ava seems good," Kate said as they walked down the hall.

"Yea, she's doing OK."

"You…really aren't mad?"

"Nope, but…Cuddy and I are supposed to leave for our big trip at the end of the week."

"France…how cool is that?"

"We're not going."

"No…" Kate whined, "you guys deserve this...especially after bailing me out."

"We're postponing, I want to do two weeks in France, and we can't be away from Ava for that long…not right now. But, we'd like some grown up time all to ourselves, so we're going away for a few days…the mountains. You need to hang out with the kid, get her used to you, so Cuddy doesn't feel bad for leaving her…otherwise I'm going to spend the whole time trying to ease her guilt over leaving the kid at home."

"Sure!" Kate answered, "You guys can go on your whole trip, you don't have to cut it short. I can handle it…this is my problem, I brought you guys into this mess."

"You did…but now we're involved. We can't exactly suddenly become _un-_involved. The kid likes us…she trusts us. I don't want to leave her behind for too long."

"You like her."

"I do have a sense of right and wrong. She needs us. Stability."

"You like her," Kate confidently asserted again.

"When she wakes up at night, she looks for us…a lot of times she looks for me. It's irrelevant whether or not I _like_ her…she's…dependent on me."

"You _like _her."

"Fine."

"And she likes you."

"She _needs_ me."

"She likes you," Kate insisted.

"She likes that I don't abuse her."

"She _likes_ you."

"Fine. Whatever. Take the kid home and bond with her. We have a few tests to run on this current case for an idiot patient who must have kissed the right asses or put money in the right pockets."

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><p>Kate took Ava home. She could immediately tell the child was less comfortable without House and Cuddy with her, but she was worlds better than she was before Kate left to meet with Foreman. They played on the floor, with relatively few tantrums, until House and Cuddy returned home.<p>

Kate put the girl to bed that evening, despite Ava's insistence that Cuddy do it, to help her become adjusted to a break in the normal routine and accept assistance from the new caregiver. When Ava woke at one, it took a few minutes for Kate to respond, so House got up with her.

As was the custom, as soon as she saw the tall, limping shadow in her doorway, her screaming subsided, and became sniffles and whimpers. He picked her up and lumbered, as smoothly as possible for a man with a limp who had just woken from sleep, into the living room to rock her. Most nights, that was about all it would take to calm her, holding, rocking, and often talking.

Early on, he tried to familiarize her with the sound of his voice, back when he was concerned that she would be frightened of him. During her first couple of days with them, she grew accustomed to the calm, deep rumble of him speaking to her, and began to associate that with all of the comforts of safety and "home".

After they would reach the rocker, he'd cross one arm over his stomach, holding her in place, and she'd press her ear against his chest. She'd return to sleep with the sound of his heart thudding, lungs whooshing, and the now familiar sound of him speaking. That night he put her in her normal place against him. He held her tightly and rocked. He spoke, of anything as it came to his mind, but that night it didn't seem to calm her. She was still sniffling, tears were soaking his shirt, and although her words were largely unintelligible, the few he could pick up made him cringe.

He hated the man that did this to her. He hated him more than he hated anyone who _ever_ wronged him and, although it was irrational, he wished he could somehow bargain to replace her pain and take it on himself. She was so small, so defenseless, so helpless. As she cried more loudly, as he understood more of what she was saying, he felt the hate bubble into rage. He imagined the satisfaction he'd feel if he could just hit the bastard who hurt her. Not once, not one solitary punch, but a repeated barrage of blows to at least attempt to avenge the harm done to his tiny friend. The more she cried, the angrier he got, and it seemed the angrier he got, the more she cried.

When the truth of this realization hit him, when he realized that she could probably _feel_ the power and tension of his anger, he wanted to stop.

So he did.

He breathed, deeply, calmly, concentrating, as he had seen Cuddy do, on full breaths that filled his lungs, making his stomach rise with each inhalation and sink with each exhalation. He made his breaths steady and even, and did his best to dismiss the anger, or at least mute it. He'd find another way to get justice for Ava. The calmer he became, the more Ava calmed. Rage, he decided, really _was_ toxic. That level of anger could impact him and everyone around him.

When Ava calmed completely, and he thought she was asleep, she lifted her face and looked tentatively at him, almost as if to evaluate his mood. He fumbled for a tissue on the end table, finding one, and wiping her drippy nose. She wiggled down until she was sitting on his lap, looking at him. "You OK?" he asked her.

She nodded, "You OK?"

He smiled, "I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"Kid…" he said hesitantly, "I know bad things happened to you. And I think I know how those things made you feel. I wish they didn't happen to you. Hell, I wish they didn't happen to anyone. I wish…people didn't do those things. People were…_someone_ was…mean to me when I was little."

"You're big," she said skeptically.

"Yea, but I used to be little."

He could see that she didn't really believe him. "Just trust me, I was once little like you. Anyway, this person…made me feel really angry. And scared. And alone. Not everyone is like that…and your life...isn't that way anymore. I'm not scared anymore, and I'm a lot less angry, and I'm definitely not alone anymore. And things can feel good. Your life is getting better. OK?."

Ava blinked at him without answering, and climbed up on him again. She was calmer and she was slowly growing closer to sleep when she finally said, "Lub ya, Catchah."

House stared ahead, "What?"

"Lub ya."

"I uh…" House blinked while thoughts raced through his head, while he tried to evaluate his feelings and emotions, while he searched for acceptable responses that weren't lies. Finally he smiled, settling on an answer once he determined the truth. "Love ya back."

* * *

><p>While House was rocking Ava that night, he figured out his case. In the morning, he got ready to go to work, telling Cuddy he'd go in while she and Kate stayed with the toddler. Cuddy could get things ready for their trip and still be available to make sure Ava would be alright with Kate. Kate's girlfriend, Melanie joined them to get to know the little girl who seemed to capture the hearts of almost everyone she met. Before he could leave, Ava did what she did every time he tried to leave the house without her, she asked him a question. "You coming back?"<p>

"I told you, I always come back," he said, smiling at her before he left.

* * *

><p>House met with the patient, ordered treatment, and quickly made his way back to the office, eager to get home to Cuddy and the kid, and eager to finalize their preparations for their mini-vacation.<p>

He truly did care about the kid, but he was also looking forward to a few days spent alone with Cuddy, naked and warm, sleeping late, having so much sex that he'd _really_ begin to question how they could still keep up with each other. He couldn't wait to feel that sense of being completely and totally sated, at least for a few hours until their need bubbled up again. Sexing themselves into oblivion.

He got to his office, grabbed his coat and backpack, and was ready to go. He knew he could convince Kate to take the first half of the nightshift listening for Ava if she woke, so that he and Cuddy could get in some pre-vacation lovin' to tide them over until their days alone. He was staring out the window for a moment, thinking of exactly what he was going to do with Cuddy if he had the time he wanted, when he vaguely heard something that sounded like his name. As he came out of his haze, he heard, "Uncle Greg? Uncle Greg?"

House turned and found Julia's son, Eddie, standing in front of his desk. "Hey Eddie," House answered, confused by the young man's presence. "Why are you here?"

"I need some advice."

"If you need advice because it burns when you pee, or there are strange lumps on your junk, talk to your aunt…or go to the clinic."

"I don't have lumps on my junk!" Eddie answered defensively. "I need advice…about a girl."

"Pregnant?" House asked, with disappointment in his voice.

"No!" Eddie shouted, "We aren't doing…that."

"OK," House replied, "Then what is it you need?"

"I messed up. I said something dumb. She dumped me and she won't even talk to me so I can explain."

House looked at the teen with confusion, completely astounded that anyone would seek his advice about anything like this. And when did his reputation become so damn kid-friendly?

"You do know about what happened between Cuddy and I a few years ago, right?"

"Yea, trust me…I've heard…over and over and…"

"I get it," House said. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Just…want your advice. What should I do? I thought she was into another guy…and I called her a slut."

House laughed, "Wow, that _is _dumb."

"I know," Eddie said, dropping his head in his hands.

"I gotta ask…if you know what happened, why in the hell would you ask _me_ what to do? I'm hardly the relationship expert."

"She took you back. I see the way she is around you. Aunt Lisa never looked at any guy like that. After everything that happened…she's still so in to you. I figured you must know _something_ I don't if you could get her back after all of that happened."

House smiled at the simplicity and rationality of what Eddie was saying. "I think I need to stay out of other people's relationships. But, what I will tell you, is that you should apologize, and mean it. Come up with some way to tell her what she means to you. Apart from that, you're on your own. It's been a really long time since I was in school."

"Nothing else? Flowers…candy…"

"Don't get her the normal crap because it'll seem phony. Think of something she likes…something personal. I gotta go, see ya later," House said, pushing past Eddie and through the door.

He made it a few steps down the hall and turned back. "Hey Ed…how'd you get here?"

"Buses."

"Bus-es? As in multiple?"

"Takes a couple of transfers," the teen answered, sounding disappointed.

House sighed, figuring he'd probably regret his next gesture, which would no doubt make him seem approachable again in the future. He couldn't help but feel bad for the kid. "Come on, I'll run you home," House offered.

"Really?" Eddie said, clearly still entranced by his uncle with a criminal past.

"Yea, just…tell me you won't do anything stupid to get the girl's attention…and you won't tell your mom that you came to me for advice. If you can agree to my conditions, I'll run you home."


	91. Chapter 91

**A/N**-_ Coming up, a bit of drama. I hope you enjoy the next few chapters nonetheless. Remember, I like to let things unfold, so sometimes it takes a few chapters to address a subplot…_

_This is one of the last major arcs in the story. Try to be patient with me for a few more weeks. I expect about 15-18 more chapters so I can bring it to a conclusion. People grow, and learn, that has been a major theme here in this story. Sometimes people don't expect to bond to the degree that they do...and sometimes things have to happen so they realize what they have. Keep in mind, the child was originally supposed to be under Kate's care...House and Cuddy were just helping her out.  
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_Thanks to everyone who has stayed with this story, to all of the readers, and all of the reviewers since the last chapter: lenasti16, LoveMyHouse, partypantscuddy, Josam, JLCH, housebound, Mon Fogel, alddi, newdayz, IHeartHouseCuddy, LapizSilkwood, ClareBear14, Cheryl (times 3), ItDontMatter, Zaydasky, Truth, LiaHuddy, Alex, huddy4ever, Bakerstreet Blues, CaptainK8, krystalbella, Way Worse Than Scottish, Ann, Abby, dmarchl and IWuvHouse._

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>There was a definite harmony in the home. Ava grew comfortable with each of the adults, quickly growing to like Kate, and steadily warming up to Melanie, who were like doting older sisters. Kate and Melanie were eager to help with the child when they could. Ava was fond of different people for different reasons. She preferred Cuddy to comfort her when she was hurt, to bathe and feed her, and play with toys on the floor. She preferred House when she was angry to calm her down, to sing with her, to tell her stories and whenever she had night terrors. She had a soft spot for playing with Kate or Melanie. They would provide amusing rides through the air, and draw her colorful cartoon characters.<p>

A few days after Kate came home, Ava woke in the night. Kate tried to calm her, practicing for the nights when she would babysit Ava during House and Cuddy's long weekend or in the event that they were tied up at the hospital. She found the child did not want anyone other than House when her night terrors struck. Ava wanted House's typical late night routine that always seemed to calm her. When Ava wouldn't settle down for Kate, House got up and took the crying child, unable to stand the sounds of her sadness without doing something. Within moments, she was calm.

After he got Ava back to sleep, he found Cuddy sitting up in bed waiting for him.

"Do you think we should push our whole weekend away off for a while?" Cuddy asked.

"Yea, probably," he answered. "She's been around us more than Kate...more familiar with us...more comfortable with us...plus kids instinctively know which people are cooler, so...can you blame her for her obvious selection?"

"House…if Ava's mother doesn't come back. Are we gonna…" Cuddy looked at him, biting her lip.

"Adopt her?" House replied, "yea…I mean…I'd like to."

"I want to…"

"I was thinking," he said, "maybe, we should try to find a bigger place. More kid friendly. Nearby so Kate can still see her. It's going to get awfully crowded in here if things keep going well with her and Mel."

"You want us to get our own place?"

"It's time to grow up. It might look better on our petition for adoption if we actually _have_ a home."

"I would like that. We can talk to a realtor tomorrow."

* * *

><p>In the morning, the phone rang. It was Ava's social worker, calling to schedule a visit to the home. House, Cuddy and Kate worked as quickly and diligently as possible to get the home cleaned and organized, making sure everything was as perfect as possible. They were done well before the visit, and Cuddy remembered back to when Youth and Family Services visited her years earlier, when she wanted to adopt Rachel. Back when she was alone, she couldn't get her home ready in time, and when the inspector arrived, everything was in utter disarray. Her life, years later, was so different. With Ava, she was surrounded by people who cared. She was in a place in her life where she was comfortable and confident enough to ask for help if she needed it, but often the help was there without even having to ask. They worked as a team, cooperating to accomplish what was best for the entire household.<p>

The social worker arrived at the home a few minutes early, introducing herself as Nadia Williams. She was young, structured, steadfast in her observance of policy and rules, and clearly cared for the children in her charge.

"I'm actually here to collect Ava and her things," Nadia said when she walked through the front door and sat down on a chair in the living room.

"What?" Cuddy said, clutching the child possessively close to her chest.

"Ava's mother is…unable to provide care. I just found out today. I'm afraid that's all I'm able to share with you about her situation. But, this is clearly no longer a temporary custody case. Ava needs permanent placement. We're going to place her with her father's mother."

"Can't she stay with us?" Kate asked. "I'm her aunt."

"You're her aunt, Dr. Vega? Really?" Nadia questioned.

"Yea, that's why I took her in the first place."

"To whom are you related?" Nadia answered.

"I'm her mother's sister," Kate responded.

"You aren't. You and her mother lied to me from the beginning. Ava's mother has no sister. She has one brother, deceased. Any other lies you'd like to tell me before I continue?" Nadia asked, irritated that she had been fooled.

Kate gaped for a moment, trying to figure out what to say next. House and Cuddy exchanged thoughts briefly, grateful that they had such poignant and well developed forms of non-verbal communication.

"She's fine here," House said, his voice certain, as he tried to move beyond Kate's lie and establish the case for Ava to remain in their care.

"It does appear that way, but I can't," Nadia answered.

"She has three adults here to care for her, three doctors, living here, in the home, with her. One of those doctors is a psychiatrist. This is practically the perfect environment for a child who has been through what she's been through. We can help her heal, body and mind," Cuddy added.

"This is hardly the _perfect environment_ for her," Nadia countered.

"Why not?" House asked. "She still has night terrors, but she's calmer, her tantrums are fewer, she's sleeping better. She eats well, she has clean clothes and she's safe. She's not terrified anymore. The kid was so scared she used to shake. We have her for a couple of weeks, and look at her!"

"First off, Dr. Vega's lie was a poor way for us to start this," Nadia replied. "It calls everything else into question."

"Well, she may have lied, but she did it for the right reasons. She was willing to do whatever it took to be sure that her patient's child received the best help possible. There is no better home for this kid. You yourself said Ava was doing well, was happy, and seemed to be doing better with us. You wanted us to keep her a few more days," Cuddy defended.

"I did. And I checked through your personnel records at the hospital, and found the appropriate child abuse clearances, so I let you keep her at your home."

"So…we don't have a problem. We're fine with her, we'll keep her," Cuddy said.

"Well, I thought you may be interested in applying for permanent custody, so I ran Dr. Vega's full background check just in case Ava's mother was unable. Figured out she wasn't Ava's aunt. Otherwise, Dr. Vega...looked good. I was initially willing to overlook the lie, because I did think you just wanted to do what was best. I wasn't sure which of you would apply for custody, so I ran Dr. Cuddy's background check. You...had a child before...who died."

"That…was an under-aged drunk driver!" Cuddy responded immediately. "My daughter was in the care of a retired teacher when it happened. I didn't do anything wrong. She was well cared for, well loved…"

"I know. I checked into it for a few days, it distracted me from the other things that came up," Nadia replied, skipping through a few pages of notes in a binder.

"What…other things?" Cuddy asked, holding Ava even closer to her, determined to convince the social worker that she hadn't done anything wrong.

"You…were the victim of domestic violence…three and half years ago…"

Cuddy stuttered, "That…that…that…was resolved. It was…an isolated incident. And I don't see how that has _anything_ to do with my suitability as a parent."

"Technically…it doesn't. But I looked into things, because a child with Ava's background needs to be in a safe place. I needed to make sure to minimize the risk that she would ever be a victim…or a witness…to anything like that again. If you were a victim, I wanted to be sure you…and therefore Ava…were safe from this…person."

"Ava and Cuddy are completely safe," House answered resolutely.

"This…is a very safe home!" Cuddy said, "Just look at Ava, talk to her, watch her with us. Interview our friends and coworkers."

"Dr. Cuddy, are you planning on being completely honest with me?"

"I am being completely honest with you," Cuddy responded.

"You are leaving out important facts. Once I looked at the incident…I saw a familiar name. Gregory House, your husband, was the perpetrator of the incident against you. Am I correct?"

"House…is my husband…this situation…it…I wasn't…he…" Cuddy looked for words that wouldn't come.

"I was…different then. I was in a lot of pain, and I was on drugs. I went to jail, did my time, I've been a clean, law abiding citizen ever since," he answered.

"A person in a drug-induced state committed an act of what could have been lethal violence? Doesn't that…sound exactly like what happened to Ava?"

"He would never hit me," Cuddy said. "And he would never, ever hurt a child."

"In any event, he attacked you. In fact, he was enraged…filled with jealousy, and rammed a vehicle into your home at speeds sufficient enough to park in your dining room, causing significant structural damage. He was lucky he didn't kill you, or the three other adults in your home…he was lucky your daughter wasn't home that night…he attacked you viciously and without regard for your safety or the safety of those around you."

"He didn't attack me. He attacked my property. That's totally different," Cuddy responded.

"It isn't different!" Nadia stated with certainty.

"I'm here…I did my time," House said. "Doesn't that count for something?"

"You did your time _after_ you fled the country."

"I came back. That's the important part. I came back and took responsibility for what I did. I made amends, both through the legal system, and directly to Dr. Cuddy."

"When that happened…yes, I pressed charges, and yes I ended all contact for a long time. He was so much better the next time I saw him that I rekindled our relationship. I married him. He's supportive, kind and loving, certainly not violent. He is amazing with that little girl. She's probably closer to him than anyone else. She feels safe…you can tell...I feel safe…" Cuddy said.

"Ma'am, no offense," Nadia said in a very condescending voice, "Do you know how many women are married to men they once filed domestic abuse charges against? Every day women are attacked, abused…they file charges, then their heart gets the better of them…they make emotional decisions…welcome the man back into the home. Sometimes it works. And sometimes, the husbands get angry for the same reason, or a new reason…and they hurt the women they are supposed to love so badly that the women die."

"Then let's have a psychologist evaluate him. They'll tell you, anyone can tell you!" Cuddy said.

Ava began to cry, so Kate took her from the room, away from the tension and conflict unfolding in the room.

"I made mistakes," House said somberly, "but don't make the kid pay for them. She's better off here. I think you know that. You can…schedule daily unannounced visits, have Ava evaluated regularly…evaluate me…or Cuddy. I'll take daily drug tests if you want. You aren't going to find anything here that will hurt that kid."

"In any event, doctors, I can't allow this. I can't just hand her over to you and hope for the best. What if you relapse and go on a tirade again? What if you get jealous over something that happens and go after Dr. Cuddy again? What if Ava is there? What if she sees that violence, or worse, ends up hurt or killed as an innocent bystander?"

"That won't happen," Cuddy insisted.

"Did you think it would happen last time?" Nadia asked. "When you invited this man into your home, into your family…around your daughter…did you think he'd attack you like that?"

"I…" Cuddy thought for a moment. "I put him in a bad situation. If I would have been thinking clearly, then I would have found him help sooner. He's not solely responsible for what happened."

"Further proof that maybe you aren't fit either, Dr. Cuddy."

House and Cuddy both felt as if they were going to be sick, their blood flushing through their ears. Cuddy thought she may actually pass out and said, "I can't believe this is happening. Please…reconsider…tell me what we can do…"

"I appreciate that you care for the child. If you want to, file an appeal. I've made _my_ decision. And…I seriously doubt anything you say will convince anyone of anything else…but be my guest. People with histories of domestic violence aren't good candidates for fostering or adoption. Thank you for caring for her in the interim…I'm glad nothing bad happened to her while she was here."

House walked over and stood next to Cuddy, as they tried to think of something they could do or say to change what was about to happen. Cuddy spoke softly, "Let's do this calmly. We don't want to upset her…make it more difficult."

He nodded.

Cuddy gathered Ava's things, tears rolling freely down her face, convinced that at any moment, she would wake up, but she did not. The horrible dream they were living was in fact their reality. When Ava came out, Cuddy hugged her, "Sweetie, I love you, we hope we will see you again soon. This lady will take you to see grandma."

"Lub you too," Ava answered.

Kate wished her well, kissing Ava's head, while she tried not to cry. Kate could barely speak.

House took the child and hugged her. He whispered "Love you, Ava. This lady knows you are going somewhere safe. I'm…glad I got to know you…and I hope…someday I'll see you again."

There was a tear that escaped his eye, which he tried to deny to himself. "Lub you," Ava said, and then added, mimicking his words, "I always come back."

She smiled at him, and he felt, at that moment, his heart being ripped from his chest in the most painful of ways. When Nadia took her, and took the bags full of things, Ava began to cry. Actually, she screamed, horrible gut-wrenching screams. All three adults stood by, unable to act. House knew, anything he would do to try to stop what was happening would likely come out wrong, so he simply said, "Please. What if…I leave here? Today. I'll pack my things."

"I'm sorry, the decision is made," Nadia said. "File an appeal to my decision if you don't like it."

"It's the _wrong_ decision," House answered.

The last sight they saw of Ava that day was the child, trying to climb over Nadia, to get back inside the home she had known, with the people that finally made her feel safe. They each felt waves of anger and nausea as they heard Ava fight while she was strapped into a car seat, and could still hear her screaming once the car door was closed. They heard her cry until Nadia pulled away in the car.

Cuddy wept tears so pained, that the only time she had cried like that before was when Rachel first died, before the numbness set in over her. Kate left for her room, devastated by the abrupt and painful change. Cuddy collapsed into a chair, "Why does this always happen, House?" She asked when he came up to her.

"I don't know."

"I can't believe this is happening."

"I know."

"What are we going to do?"

"I promise you…I will do whatever it takes to get her back. I swear I will, Cuddy."

She nodded through her tears, "_We_ will. We have to get her back. We need her every bit as much as she needs us."

He nodded, trying to keep his emotions in check so he could make decisions about what needed to be done.

Hours after Ava was gone, Kate emerged from her room and tried to convince them to take their trip. "You guys should go. It's the weekend, nothing can be done now anyway, the offices will all be closed. I have phone number...a lawyer...a couple of friends suggested him for family law. Do you want it?"

"Yea," Cuddy answered.

"Give him a call Monday morning. I am so sorry I did this to you…that I introduced you, that I lied to the social worker about being related to her," Kate said.

"Don't apologize for introducing us to her," Cuddy said calmly, too tired to respond adamantly. "As far as the lie, you…were trying to do what was best. You were trying to help her."

"I was but, I didn't think it would come to this."

"I'm glad we got to meet her," Cuddy answered.

"Go, take a few days to deal with this. I'll talk to some people, see if there's something I can find out that might help," Kate said.

House was quiet, already considering what they could do. Making the wrong move would only convince any judge or other social worker that he was unstable, that the environment was unsuitable for a child. He had to be smart, strategic and patient. House sat up most of the night, pacing, looking at the empty crib, and the rocker where, only the night before, he held the child that he had so quickly become attached too. Cuddy also couldn't sleep, despite the exhaustion from emotions and tears.

Neither of them wanted to go far, in case there was something that could be done, or if, by some miracle, Ava could be brought back to them. They also needed to find a place nearby to think away from other distractions, and decided on House's apartment. They told Kate where they'd be in case she heard something.

They thought all night, in silence. They drove to the apartment, in silence. Ava's tears echoed in their heads, and they wondered where she was, and if she was safe. They were both too devastated, and too lost in thought to speak to each other apart from the words that absolutely had to be spoken. When they parked in front of the apartment, House looked at Cuddy, "I have an idea."


	92. Chapter 92

**A/N**-_Thank you to all of the readers and reviewers since the last chapter: Boo's House, ClareBear14, JLCH, A, LapizSilkwood, housebound, Way Worse Than Scottish, partypantscuddy, Josam, lenasti16, Ann, IHeartHouseCuddy, Phyna, IWuvHouse, Bakerstreet Blues, Mon Fogel, iridescentZEN, bigboss, TheHouseWitch, Akemi1582, PrincetonBlues, CaptainK8, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl and dmarchl.  
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_I'm so excited to see how many people are still sticking with the story. OK, here we go, remember this arc will take a few chapters. There is no need to panic!  
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**Disclaimer_-_**_I don't own the characters of House, MD_

* * *

><p>As they sat, parked in front of the apartment, House took a deep breath and said, calmly, "Maybe you should divorce me."<p>

"Hunh? WHAT?" Cuddy said, going from devastated to a level of sadness and irritation that she thought was completely unattainable. "This had better be a _really_ fucking poorly timed joke," she said her voice shaky and angry.

"It's not."

"Well this is really a _great_ time to discuss this! Since we're mourning the one year anniversary of Rachel's death, _and_ we just lost a little girl that we were completely falling in love with, so we might as well breakup!" she said. "I have no idea when you went from being in love with me to wanting a divorce, or what I did to get you to that point…but…"

"Hear me out," he said calmly.

"After all of the time I've spent to trying to convince you through words, actions, through…utter devotion and love…that I would _never_ leave you…that I was in this forever…I guess I should have been more worried about the fact that _you_ might leave."

"It's not what it seems," he said, trying to place a kiss on her cheek.

"Don't, House. I can see it, you're gonna to fuck me goodbye and disappear."

"I'm not. It was a kiss…I wouldn't do that."

"I can't believe you're considering ending this. The best fucking relationship of my life…and I at least thought you were somewhat content…if not happy, and you are leaving me."

"I'm _not _leaving you."

"Did we even make it longer than your last marriage?" she asked, sounding completely pained.

"Well, I know we made it longer than _your_ last one," he spat back, falling immediately into their old tried and true pattern of argument, deflection and accusation.

"Wait…" she said when she put her hand on the door handle. "I'm just…reacting…and so are you. We're hurt…sad… That isn't what I should have said. Let's…try…to talk about this before it becomes the last argument we ever have," she said.

"Fine. Then let me explain. It could be a…sham divorce."

"Sham divorce?" she asked.

"Yea, if I'm the problem, then we make them think you and I have split. File for divorce, I'll stay at my apartment until things settle down. I'll still see you, Ava can live with you, we can have trysts, work together, I still get to see Ava sometimes, which is world's better than never…we'll just do it all…quietly."

She thumped her fist and said, "I can't believe you'd toss this aside so quickly."

"I'm not, it's a technicality. It wouldn't change anything."

"It…means something to me," she said somberly as she tugged open the door and got out, walking up the stairs to enter his apartment.

He sat in the car and watched her enter. Following her in a few moments later, he found the air in the apartment cold and stale. He adjusted the thermostat and then walked back to his bedroom and found Cuddy sitting on his bed, considering sleep.

"We can just head home," she said, "We don't need a special place to discuss divorce."

"I don't really want to divorce you. It's on paper."

"House," she said, staring forward, crying tears that she was convinced had long since dried up, "Our marriage, our relationship…is real. If we want to do this, if we try to get Ava back, we should do it as a family. Everything that happened to me before…and now…you _are_ the one thing I can count on. And now I have to lose that? Whether it's on paper or not…I can't do that."

"I just thought…that way you could have her. If I were out of the picture."

"I need you. Ava needs you too, not just me. Not just on the weekends or evenings when we can schedule a secret visit. That kid is so unbelievably attached to you. You don't think they'll see right through us?"

"I want you to be happy," he mumbled.

"I know…you've proven that to me time and again. And time and again…I've told you…" she stopped, facing him again. Seeing the sorrow on her face was like having a knife driven into his chest. "You…make me happy. You and I have to work this stuff out together…"

"Yea…" he said, looking away.

"If I have Ava…I want to have her with you. If I would have gotten pregnant…I wanted to be pregnant with you. If I never have the privilege of being a mom again…I want to be childless with you. Please don't doubt that."

"I don't," he said. "It was just…a thought."

"A dumb thought," she answered.

"Agreed," he said with a sad smile.

"I know you want to have her too…I'm sorry I can't agree to divorce you."

He looked up at her, startled, "Don't be. I want us all to be together too."

"We were caring for that girl as a team. And it was actually working."

"I know," he answered.

"So we're agreed. We do this together."

"We're agreed."

She smiled and then the look dropped off of her face, "You're going to leave me quietly then, aren't you? Not tell me…disappear in the night?"

"No," he answered. "Never."

"You better not, House. Please…" she looked panicky, concerned.

He hated making her feel this way, and yet the confirmation that she still wanted him, even when she was given the chance to run from him if she wanted to, gave him all of the evidence he needed that she loved him every bit as much as he loved her.

"I promise, I would never do that. Disappear on you in the night. You can still trust that. It was…just an idea," he said with a look that confirmed that his heart was with her.

"Such a bad idea."

"You're right," he responded.

"We come up with a plan together…that doesn't involve the real or fake dissolution of our marriage."

"Yea," he said with a smile.

She kissed his lips softly, faintly, trying to confirm the fact that he still was hers…that he wasn't leaving, or disappearing, or in a moment of self-sacrifice, possible because he still doubted his importance in her life, removing himself from the equation.

"Need you," she said, increasing the depth and frequency of her kisses, "I really don't want to get used to life without you again."

She opened his coat and slipped her arms around him, pulling herself into the warmth of him under the garment. "You feel so warm," she whispered, the parallels between the warming of her heart at his continued commitment to her, and the warming of her body from their physical closeness not lost on her.

Her mind was focused on the reaffirmation their relationship, a chance to remind him of why he should be glad he was staying. Their mutual attraction certainly did influence their decision to reunite, their natural physical attraction omnipresent and powerful, but they had transcended their own physical connection months earlier. Transcending a connection that deep, that all-encompassing, wasn't an everyday event, but the love and compassion they felt for each other easily surpassed their physical need.

Her hands moved under his shirt, clumsily feeling for skin. The apartment was still cold and the air hit the exposed skin of his stomach, a startling contrast to the warm sensations she was creating. His body reacted with a flood of pleasant feelings, heading toward something that he already knew was going to feel incredible.

He kissed her neck, crawling slowly across her jawbone, feeling her shiver from the combination of warmth, cold and arousal. He tasted salt on his tongue and found her crying. "Fuck…I'm sorry," he whispered against her neck. "Please, don't cry. I'm not leaving, and we will get her back."

"Yesterday…we lost Ava…and today…today Rachel's been gone a year…and then you want a divorce…"

"You know I don't want a divorce."

She nodded.

"Say it…say you know I don't want a divorce…" he insisted.

"I know you don't want that," she answered.

"With everything going on…"

"I know. Where should I hide in the month of December to avoid all of this…heartbreak."

"We can hide in here for a few hours," he said, with a somber smile.

"I must have done something really horrible to continuously feel this…pain…to continuously be so close to having a child only to feel them being ripped away again."

"I know. We'll figure it out."

"House…what if she's…what if she's not safe there…with her grandmother…"

"She's safe there."

"You don't know that," she responded sadly.

"No, I don't. But I think that social worker, as irritating as she is…actually wants to do what's best for the kid. This time…she's wrong…but her intentions are probably good."

Cuddy nodded. "Are we going to stay here this weekend or should we just…head home…"

"Yea, we'll stay…if you want to," he answered. "I'd rather it be just us. I don't feel like having to play nice with Kate or Mel right now. You're used to my _charms_."

She patted his arm and rested her head against his shoulder, "Indeed I am."

"Maybe we'll come up with something."

* * *

><p>They built a roaring fire to try to warm the cold space. There were menus in the kitchen, so they decided to call for delivery to avoid going for groceries, cooking and cleaning up. Cuddy pointed at a flatbread pizza and a pear salad on the menu that looked delicious and asked House to pick something for dessert for both of them.<p>

He was looking over the menu, trying to decide what he wanted. From the other room, Cuddy realized that she still didn't hear House order anything and found him staring down at the menu on the countertop. She walked silently over to him and found him tapping one of the kid's meal selections on the menu with the tip of his finger. Standing behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. "I miss her too. I'm so sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for."

"I wish I didn't press charges…I …"

House removed her hands, "Don't even finish that thought. You can't blame this mess on the fact that you pressed charges after what happened. You did what you had to do. I'm at fault for this current mess."

"We've been over this a thousand times. I really screwed up with you, House. After I saw how sick and depressed you were…I shouldn't have left your side. I should have done something long before then."

"Like you said, we've been over it a thousand times. Don't turn this into something to feel guilty for. You did what was best for you and your kid back then, the same as you tried to do what's best for Ava now."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You are feeling guilty for your part in all of this…"

"I am not," he scoffed.

She looked at him, patiently, sweetly, not pushing. The look in her eyes was one of unmistakable love and empathy. Identification with his pain. With his feelings. That look hurt. It was so compassionate and genuine that he felt his exterior crumbling. "Don't do this to me," he said softly.

"Don't do what?" she said, taking his hand.

He pulled it back, "I can't do this right now, please don't push me."

"I'm not…I was just…looking at you. House, it's OK if you miss her. You are allowed to miss her. And you aren't at fault for what happened any more than I am."

"Please…let it go," he said one more time, softly and without emphasis.

"OK," she said, reaching up to loop her arms around his neck. "I'll let it go. Just…let me hug you."

The moment his head leaned against hers, he broke. He wished at that moment that she did push him, so he'd have an excuse to get angry and storm off without having to feel the pain that he was feeling. Anger was always so much simpler than sadness. There was so much suffering, so much anguish, and yet this one, redeeming sensation. Cuddy, hugging him, holding him and still accepting where he needed to be. Her acceptance allowed the floodgates to crash open to ages of pain that he had felt as an abused child, as a beaten teen, as a lonely and jaded adult.

He couldn't deny the horrible sorrow he felt. His reaction was like so many he had heard about, although more often associated with impending death than with great sadness, when moments from life flash before one's eyes and they see some sort of truth. His moments weren't the comforting sort. He saw things he did to hurt others, and what they did to hurt him. He relived nearly every moment when his dad raised a hand to him, every torment he was forced to experience in the name of discipline. He felt the pain of losses in love, and the pain of the moments in his life when he thought not only that he wouldn't experience love, but that he didn't deserve to experience it. Like subsequent punches, he felt the most horrifying blows of all. Cuddy dying and leaving, realizing the loss of Rachel, then experiencing the loss of Ava.

Just when he allowed himself to open his heart to the child, she was gone. Now he feared more than he could admit what was happening to her. How would people handle her night terrors? Would they grow impatient and frustrated with her? The question he hated most of all: Was she safe? The thought of her frightened or in pain was almost too much to bear, and yet he stood, helpless, unable to protect her, unable to comfort her.

He had in some ways experienced these many losses throughout the years, but as his guard dropped over time, allowing him to experience unmuted love, he was also left vulnerable to unmuted pain. And at that moment, he truly experienced it. He thought he may break entirely. His knees buckled under the weight of his feelings, as he felt his power slipping from his fingers, and prepared with sorrowful acceptance to hit the ground. He felt there was nothing he could do to stop the swift descent into pain and onto the floor.

But he didn't fall, he didn't hit the ground. When his knees buckled, Cuddy was hugging him and she caught his fall…she prevented it. Like she had done for him before in the past, and he had done for her, in a moment of despair one of them caught the other. She caught his weight, leaned him into the counter a bit for support, but she stopped him from falling.

He didn't even offer the pretense that he was holding himself up anymore. And she didn't need that from him. She had seen the best and the worst of everything, and yet she was still there. She didn't say anything to try to comfort him, because she knew he could feel what she was offering.

He surrendered to the pain and loss.

As the memories flowed through him, invading nearly every sense, it was painful, and horribly real, but as his mind cycled through his life, and grew closer to their present moment, he felt some of the pain lifting. It was almost as if his acceptance of the horrors and grievances that he kept locked inside allowed him to let go of some of the pain.

When he felt able, he took some control of his body again, pulling himself upright and looking at the person who seemed to prevent his collapse. She was his perennial savior and he was hers.

"Wanna go to the sofa?" she asked, holding his cheek supportively and feeling him press against it.

He could see in her eyes that she wasn't denying what he was experiencing, but true to his request, she wouldn't push him. "Can you call in the food?" he asked after she walked to the sofa with him.

"Sure," she smiled.

After the food order was placed, she sat down next to him on the sofa. He picked her up and moved her a few inches away from him, still on the sofa, but he needed the space. He looked down at the upholstery, then turned to face her. "If you need me to stop…just tell me. I'll understand," he said, his words falling out of his mouth.

"Stop what?" she asked.

Just as his memories flooded him in his moment of weakness, his story flowed from his subconscious to her ears. She sat patiently for hours, listening with truest empathy that can only be reached when one human being truly cares for another, when the person can feel the pain of another completely.

They had to stop a few times. When the food came, she fetched it from the door, put the cold items in the fridge and left the warm items on the counter where they would grow cold long before they were touched. The second time, he stopped when he became thirsty, and she brought him water, and a scotch, figuring he wouldn't mind a little numbness through the pain.

He didn't touch the scotch while he spoke, wanting his disclosures to be honest and not blamed on the loosening effects of alcohol, but he did drink the water. She watched him struggle through his memories, holding nothing back. Not even the most embarrassing moments. She had tears that burned her eyes, some slipping over her cheeks, but she listened with patience and compassion. Every time he met her gaze, he saw the love and understanding that he had craved for a lifetime.

He eventually allowed her to rub his leg, the pain in it excruciating. And she did move closer to him, although only slightly. When he finished, he lifted the glass of scotch and threw the contents down his throat, the burning sensation pleasant and warming. She drank some too. "Are you OK?" he asked.

She breathed a chuckle. "Am _I_ OK? House…" she started. He waited for an expression of sympathy that he knew would make him uncomfortable, but again she proved to him how much she knew him. "Thank you for trusting me," she said genuinely.

"Thanks for being trustworthy."

He felt exhausted. But strangely better. Cuddy didn't run for the hills when she learned, in detail, the circumstances surrounding his childhood and youth. And it didn't actually kill him to have someone else know exactly what happened. She didn't see him as weak, in fact, if he were to ask for the truth, she saw him as stronger than she had ever seen him before. Stronger for surviving. They had tiptoed around this subject many times, bits and pieces coming to the forefront. He always hesitated, not wanting to burden her or appear weak, she hesitated asking, not wanting to push him too hard or cause more pain. He had no more dark secrets, not from her. Nearly all of the things he discussed would never cross his lips again, but for one day, the thoughts had the opportunity to escape.

He saw himself, in some ways, as a human being created by anger and jealousy, the byproduct of things unpleasant like a mutant born from a strange cacophony of unnatural events. She saw him as someone wonderful, who rose from the muck and the pain, who shucked off the filth he survived to emerge an amazing, strong and utterly remarkable human being.

He said he was hungry, so she grabbed the food they ordered earlier from the kitchen. When she returned, he was already asleep on the sofa, sitting in the same position he was in when she got up. She tipped him back into a more comfortable position, lifting and adjusting limbs, and he was so exhausted that he didn't react at all. She got a blanket, and wormed her way in next to him, finally allowing herself to let go of the sorrow she felt on his behalf, wishing beyond reason that she could find a way to erase the deep-seated hurt he felt. As she cried, she rubbed the scruff of his cheek, his chest and shoulder, trying to comfort him, even in his sleep.

While she held him close, the depth of the connection that House and Ava so clearly shared stared her in the face. They both desperately wanted to help the girl, to help Ava heal, to show her that life didn't have to be bad. They didn't expect their efforts to help her could heal their own scarred and gnarled wounds.


	93. Chapter 93

**A/N**-_abundant thanks to the readers and all reviewers since last time: partypantscuddy, LoveMyHouse, Tori, JLCH, Josam, lenasti16, housebound, IWuvHouse, IHeartHouseCuddy, Mon Fogel, alddi, Lapiz Silkwood, Bakerstreet Blues, CaptainK8, KiwiClare, ClareBear14, SissiCuddles, TheHouseWitch, KatieF-House, Alex, BETEDELSTEIN, Abby, dmarchl, HuddyGirl and OldSFfan  
><em>

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

_Remember how I told you I don't know squat about medicine…I'm not a lawyer either. Did some research, you may find errors.  
><em>

* * *

><p>House woke several times during the night. Cuddy was with him on the sofa, and around four, he convinced her to move to the bed when the confined space became too uncomfortable.<p>

She went right back to sleep when they moved, but he was awake for a while. He didn't regret his disclosures to her the night before, but part of him did wonder if, at some point, she'd start to look at him more like an object to be pitied than the somewhat mysterious, but sexy man she seemed so attracted to over the years. He always wanted to be the man that she found so irresistible, and hoped that the exposition of his vulnerabilities didn't make him any less _that_ man.

He rolled onto his side, spooning behind her and sliding his fingers up her stomach to cup her breast. He deepened his caresses, only slightly, not wanting to obviously wake her, but certainly not averse to her waking up on her own. The warmth of her back against his chest felt soothing, a reminder of her continued presence with him. Her breast was full in his hand but still far more gravity-defying than it should have been for a woman of her age. Her nipple hardened under his thumb and she instinctively rocked her hips back, pressing against him and flooding him with immediate desire. She whispered his name in a near moan, her breath growing faster and heavier. He wasn't even sure if she was really awake, but she was certainly thinking of him. Hearing her acknowledge that it was him in her bed, him that she wanted, even in sleep, was beyond affirming.

He wondered if he'd ever stop trying to win her, trying to impress her, trying to remind her why she still wanted him after all of the insanity. They always wanted to impress each other. She'd wear tantalizing outfits, swaying her hips and driving him wild, he tried to be the most brilliant, the most virile, the most exciting.

She'd always assume a little of his attention to her neckline and ass were flattery designed to make her feel good, he'd always assume she was exaggerating her admiration of his prowess or his genius to stroke his ego. Neither would ever know that their admiration for the other was usually muted rather than exaggerated. Perhaps trying to impress each other wasn't a _bad_ thing. After a few moments of his hands moving along her body, their hips rocking and pressing in a subtler, slower version of the rhythm they'd later embrace, she was awake, although still only barely. She hooked a leg over his hip, beckoning him to share their union without hesitation. Perfection. Affirmation. Bliss.

* * *

><p>When she woke later that morning, he was sitting on a chair in the corner near the bed, slouched, hands folded loosely on his abdomen, looking in her direction.<p>

"That is really creepy," she said with a small chuckle.

"That's the vibe I was going for," he said, trying to joke, but his voice falling flat. "Keeping our relationship fresh, one eerie moment at a time."

"What _are_ you doing?"

"Thinking."

"Come up with anything?"

"Nothing firmly seated in the realm of reality. I…think we should call that lawyer. See what he says."

"I know my timing is…going to sound pretty bad here…" Cuddy began hesitantly.

"What?"

"Mind if we run up to the cemetery, just for a few minutes…I do want to stop by there…I can't miss it. I can go myself if you don't feel up for it."

"Of course I'll go. It's not bad timing. Just because you love another kid doesn't mean you stop loving the first one. I think I'd be a bit concerned if you _didn't_ want to go."

Cuddy's eyes closed at his words, the totality of their loss settling upon her. She rested her elbows on her thighs and leaned her face into her hands under the pretext of waking up.

"I didn't mean that to sound cold," he said, "I just mean…I think we should go."

* * *

><p>They arrived at the cemetery where Rachel was buried, parked the car and made the winding walk from the road to the graveside. The December air was bitter cold, the breeze easily cutting through fabric and skin to chill the core. Once they found Rachel's grave marker, House sat on the ground, leaning against the same stone he leaned against the night Cuddy proposed. She quickly went about her business, brushing grass clippings and dirt from the stone. She arranged some flowers around the base while House watched.<p>

"I want to run away," he stated calmly as he leaned his head against the cold gravestone behind him.

"If we move out of the country, we have zero shot of getting Ava back…that would probably demonstrate _how_ unfit we are as parents…so I don't see how that would help," Cuddy said, taking the question more seriously than she usually did.

"I'm entertaining a theoretical. We have actually done that before. I'm…fantasizing about the ultimate 'run-away' for us. Say...we actually get her. Where would you like to take her? We have money…we could take her anywhere in the world…obviously when she gets a little older. I mean…clearly the _types_ of getaways would change a little from our typical excursions…nude beaches and wild clubs would have to be off the list…I'd probably have to retire from pole dancing…"

"Now you sound like a dad," Cuddy said with a giggle. "Umm…Sydney Opera House…Venice…Machu Picchu…"

"Exactly…we could actually introduce her to history in the places where it happened. Talk about an education."

"I'd think you'd shy away from the idea of a kid travelling after all of the moving you did growing up."

"I got to see some amazing things…things I wouldn't have gotten to see. I also know, having your parents take you to see the Great Wall is infinitely cooler than sitting in drab, boring military family housing."

"True."

"Going places in order to spend time _with_ your family is different than bringing your family along while you do something else."

They sat in silence for a few moments, at first imagining a world of possibilities, and then settling on the cold truth…right now, they weren't even sure if they'd ever see her again.

"Wonder what it would have been like…if she would have met her," House said, nodding at Rachel's tombstone.

"I have thought about that a lot," Cuddy replied. "Rachel would have made one amazing big sister. She would have loved that little girl. Ava's…vulnerability and tininess would have made Rachel so protective," Cuddy added with a chuckle. "So much I wish I would have done with her!"

"Me too," House answered.

"If we get a chance…if we get Ava back…we have to promise not to get…lost in work and formality…and forget to…take her to the beach…play on the floor…read stories…go to movies…"

"I think I can promise you…I will never lose myself in formality and forget to have fun," he jested. "Look," he said, his tone more serious, "If this works out, I don't think we'll forget."

"Poor Rachel. She had to be my first one. She had to deal with everything while I learned how to be a mom, when I had an insane career…"

"…and an insane boyfriend…" House interrupted. "You worked, but you were there for her. She felt loved. She lived an amazing life with you. Honestly there isn't another woman alive that I'd rather see any kid I care about with."

"And watching you with Ava, remembering some of those times with Rachel, you're simply amazing with children. I think you'd be such a wonderful father."

"Thanks."

"I still miss her…every single day."

"I know."

"I almost felt bad you know…considering being a mom again when she wasn't even gone a year. Almost like I was betraying her."

"Would you have felt bad having another kid if she was still alive?"

"No. Rachel _wanted_ a little brother or sister. More than she wanted to take gymnastics…that's saying a lot."

"Then you shouldn't feel bad now. It doesn't make her any less your kid. Too bad we didn't get our shit together a couple of years ago, huh?"

"Yea…the concept of having a kid with anyone but you always seemed…either silly and fanciful, or completely absurd."

"Always?"

"Well…almost always."

"Starting when? College?"

"God no! Kids were the last thing I wanted back then," she chuckled. "I was focused...driven. When I started with IVF, I kinda got the idea in my head…and it never left."

"Why didn't we? Why didn't you ask? I all but threw myself in front of you."

"Things were different then. I wasn't sure what the game was…"

"There was no game," he said with conviction.

"_Everything_ was a game back then. Things were very different, you have to admit that."

"They were…But _that_…my implied offer…wasn't a game."

"Do you realize, that if we would have had a kid back then, it would be around eight…something like that…wow."

"Yea. That's definitely weird."

* * *

><p>Early Monday morning, Cuddy called the attorney, ready to find out what options were available to the couple in their quest to get Ava back. Shortly after she spoke to the lawyer, Cuddy called Nadia Williams.<p>

"I just wanted to ask if Ava was doing OK with her Grandmother."

"Dr. Cuddy, I can't discuss this case with you," Nadia said, her voice cold and professional.

"Please…I don't need details, can you just…tell me if she's doing OK. If she's…safe…"

"You think I would put her somewhere where she wasn't safe?"

"So…does that mean she's doing OK?"

Nadia chuckled, "She's adjusting, Dr. Cuddy, she'll be fine. OK?"

"Yea," Cuddy said a bit sadly, "Thanks."

* * *

><p>They saw the lawyer Tuesday morning. He was well dressed, proper creases in his clothing, sparkling white teeth and slightly greying at the temples. He certainly acted the part of a successful lawyer, introducing himself as George Roberts in perfectly enunciated language and gesturing for House and Cuddy to sit in comfortably padded office chairs. He sat in his own chair, right in front of them, instead of behind a desk, in an attempt to appear open to his clients.<p>

"Adoptions in situations like these can be very complicated," Roberts began, "so I'll need you to detail the obstacles that you've experienced."

House and Cuddy described, in as abridged a version of events as possible, exactly why they were unable to have custody of Ava. Roberts took page after page of notes, handwritten notations in a notebook.

"Is there any chance you're the father of the child, sir?" Roberts asked.

"That's the goal," House said, "As of now…"

"Biologically?" Roberts interrupted.

"Of course not."

"If we can establish there is cause to question paternity…that you have reason to think she is your biological offspring…that certainly changes things."

"Sorry. I haven't even met the mother of the child," House replied.

"So…if you don't know the mother…how did you meet the girl?"

"We were…babysitting. We had her around two weeks," House answered.

"You know this will be expensive. And I can't guarantee you any real results," Roberts continued.

"We don't really care what it costs," Cuddy added.

"So you've known this child…for…a few days…she isn't a relative…and you don't care how much it costs? That doesn't make sense to me."

"We like her," Cuddy replied. "She settled in very well with us. She bonded with us."

"OK…" Roberts said with obvious disbelief. "Well…Have you tried expungement?"

"We haven't tried anything except asking nicely…" House responded. "Strangely that tactic didn't pan out the best, and now we're here."

"Well, we can see if we can have your conviction expunged from your record. There's some potential there. No matter what…we have to make sure you have everything together in the event that things go in your favor. Was there any sort of home study done?"

"No," they answered together.

"OK, you own your home…or rent?" Roberts asked as he took notes.

"Umm…" House hesitated.

"OK…'ummm' isn't the answer I wanted to hear. You staying with family?"

"Friends," Cuddy replied.

"You…need a home. Your own. It needs to be safe for a child, with enough bedrooms. Doesn't have to be a fancy mansion, but something decent would be good. I'll have someone do a mock home study to make sure everything else is in place."

They nodded. "Now, Dr. House," Roberts said, looking at House and Cuddy and then back to his paper, "You have a history with drug abuse?"

"Yea. I'm…clean now."

"You willing to be drug tested?" Roberts continued.

"Definitely," House answered.

"Great, I'm going to set you up with a schedule of voluntary weekly drug testing. We want to have proof in case they fight the expungement. The expungement itself is mostly paperwork. The people who review the requests will approve or not approve your request. If they don't approve it, they may call us in to allow us a chance to prove your case."

"OK," House agreed.

"Are you in…a support group, 12-step program?"

"No," House answered tentatively.

"Get a support group. They love that stuff."

"I'm already clean!" House insisted.

"We want to prove that you are…and that you are committed to staying that way. If you want this to work, Dr. House..."

"Fine. It's fine. I'll do it."

"At least you guys have good employment. Any other children?"

"A daughter, Rachel…she passed away," Cuddy answered.

"I'm sorry to hear that. You see a shrink at all or have a grief support group?"

"No, why?" asked Cuddy.

"Once a month wouldn't be a bad idea. Show you've tried to deal with this loss and you aren't just trying to replace one child with another."

"Sure," Cuddy consented.

"OK, so we need to get everything in place. Technically we have to wait 5 years after the crime, but we'll have everything ready to submit at that time."

"That's almost a year and a half from now. It's too long to wait," House said with concern.

"No offense, but, that's the law. It will take us time to get everything in place anyway."

"What about visitation or fostering in the meantime?" Cuddy asked.

"This is a very complicated situation. You can't just waltz in and decide you want to play mommy and daddy. You have to prepare. Let me do some research. I don't want to be pessimistic, but, folks, this is a longshot. For now, do everything you can to prove you're ready for a child."

"OK," House and Cuddy agreed.

"If it's OK with you, I'll contact the social worker and see if I can learn anything," Roberts offered.

They walked out of Roberts' office, somewhat optimistic, but also a bit concerned. "I'm aware I'm not everyone's picture perfect image of a father, but I didn't realize that I'm barely an adult."

"Are you willing to do all of this…buy a home, drug testing, the support group thing…"

"Whatever it takes," he affirmed.

Cuddy took his arm, "Come on, we have a lot to do!"

* * *

><p>On the way home from the lawyer's office, Cuddy called Nadia Williams again.<p>

"Good morning, Dr. Cuddy," Nadia said suspiciously.

"I'm just checking in to see if Ava is doing OK."

"Dr. Cuddy, what's going on. This makes two days in a row," Nadia said.

"We just want to know if Ava's OK."

Nadia chuckled, "As I've said, she's adjusting, Dr. Cuddy, she'll be fine. OK?"

"Yea," Cuddy answered, "Thanks."

Cuddy called Nadia each day that week. By the end of the week, Nadia was anticipating the call. Cuddy never took much of Nadia's time. She was always respectful and brief, but she was certain to make that call each day.

"Oh, Dr. Cuddy, what a surprise!" Nadia said sarcastically.

"Checking on Ava."

"The child is still adjusting, but it's nice of you to ask."

"OK, good," Cuddy answered.

"Yes. So, I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow?" Nadia asked, her smile showing through on the phone.


	94. Chapter 94

**A/N**-_Thanks to all of the readers and the reviewers since the last chapter: CaptainK8, SissiCuddles, bonnieyy77, JLCH, Ola, IHeartHouseCuddy, lenasti16, IW, iridescentZEN, alddi, Josam, partypantscuddy, KiwiClare, Way Worse Than Scottish, ClareBear14, Bakerstreet Blues, Alex;) dmarchl, Abby, HuddyGirl and LoveMyHouse.  
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_Not sure if I'll be able to update this weekend. I'll try, if not, definitely Monday.  
><em>

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. _

_This chapter includes adult content. If you don't like it, skip to the first section to the line break._

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><p>House stumbled into the living room at Kate's, tossed his coat onto the sofa, and sighed. They solved a case in the wee hours of the morning, a brilliant diagnosis, but the hours were intense, and the process exhausting. After they got home, House had to leave for his support group meeting.<p>

Cuddy was staring at computer screen when he returned, the laptop perched on her legs. He flopped down on the recliner. "Thought you'd be asleep," he said, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Lots to do!" she answered.

"Is that work?"

"Real Estate. I called an agent today about a few properties."

"Not that annoying woman from Baltimore!"

"Sorry, she's only licensed in Maryland," Cuddy said, peering over her computer and smirking at him.

"I'm crushed," he answered sarcastically.

"I made some appointments for tomorrow afternoon. I figured that would give you enough time to sleep in, get some rest, and then we can head out."

"Sure," he answered through a yawn.

"So…how was your support group?"

"Instead of motivational speakers talking to pre-teens about staying away from drugs, they should force them to attend these meetings. If I would have known, after the infarction I would have found a way to grin and bear it rather than taking the Vicodin," he joked.

"That bad?"

He groaned, "You know I really hate both ineptitude and whining right? Did you learn that about me?"

She smiled, "I think I may have gotten that impression."

"Self-pitying idiots complaining about how their boss expects them to work, or exes need money for diapers. Damn, the injustice of it all. Seriously?"

She pulled her glasses off and smiled, "So they were all that bad?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, "No. They weren't. There were actually a few functioning adults who weren't annoying, but they were in the minority. The whiny ones brought their imaginary megaphones. Next time we talk to the lawyer…or that social worker, tell her…a much better use of my time would be to hang out with Ava, who is at least a year older developmentally than some of the people in there tonight, and definitely better to talk to."

She picked up her computer and stood next to his chair. "You want to look at the places we're seeing with the realtor?"

He looked up at her from the seat, eyes bloodshot and tired. "Show me tomorrow?"

"Sure," she said, placing the laptop on the end table before sitting down on the arm of the chair, and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Excellent job on that case earlier!" she said, while she rubbed his neck with her free hand and then allowed her hand to fall naturally down to the front of his jeans.

"Chase actually figured that one out," he said, before he kissed her neck, taking in the smell of shampoo and body wash and skin.

"That's true," she answered, hopping up and going to the coat closet.

"Where are you going?" he asked, stunned by the sudden lack of her presence.

"If _Chase_ solved the case, I should probably be rewarding him!" she said, as if the answer was obvious, the 'duh' implied in her tone and body language.

House smirked despite his tiredness, yanking his phone out of his pants and saying into it, "Chase, you're fired!"

Cuddy giggled as she walked back over to him, and sat on the arm of the chair again, her legs stretched across his lap, ankles crossed on the opposite arm of the chair. "You're probably too tired anyway and I'd hate to bother you," she whispered into his ear.

"I'm not categorically opposed to being bothered. I like the way you bother me."

"You worked really hard today…I was thinking maybe…"

"A happy ending?" he said, with a smirk and a scandalous leer.

She scowled unhappily at him, "I am not some…"

He held out a hand to interrupt her. "So my choice of phrases was poor…how about…a 'joyful conclusion' or 'cheerful finale'…you pick, I'm open to your suggestions," he teased.

He could feel her smile against his neck. When he tried to kiss her collarbone, she grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled back his head, looking him right in the eye, "Do you have any clue how much I love you?"

"I've had…inklings that maybe you harbor a feeling or two…plus you know how it is…people talk."

"That they do," she answered, as she stood and extended a hand. "Poor guy…let's go to bed, so you can pass out after you've had your _joyful finale_."

She led him down the hall. She was being sweet, comforting, and reassuring, but the phrase, 'poor guy,' echoed in his head. He was suddenly awake, feeling the need to defend his honor. He wasn't some sleepy old man in need of pity. He grabbed her wrist, and pulled her back so swiftly that she actually yelped, and spun back until she was facing him, one hand on his chest, eyes wide and breath uneven.

"I can usually seem to muster a few more minutes of wakefulness for you," he said, his voice raspy and low. "It's the selfish bastard in me."

Before she could even answer, he had her against the wall and was biting softly at her neck and shoulder. He could almost feel the 'ping' of her reaction, as she shifted from loving and compassionate partner, into the virtual sex goddess he often fantasized about. He wanted to have her there against the wall, but like it or not, his body was more tired than he wanted to admit, and having to stop along the way to ask for change in location certainly didn't help his endeavor to prove that he wasn't weak or in need of pity. "I thought you were tired," she panted, as she tugged his shirt away from him, and practically shoved him into their room.

"Changed my mind," he said, after guiding her onto the bed. As he crawled up her body, kissing a knee, a thigh, and then a hip, he knew he had her where he wanted her. She waited for him, eyes closed, head tipped back, waiting to feel his tongue part her center, and dip into her wetness, wanting to feel a slow, long kiss where she needed it most. He pulled her leg over his shoulder and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her.

She needed him so badly. In seconds, he had completely changed the entire feeling for the night, from what was going to be the gentle, loving contact of happily married people to a passionate encounter as intense as a couple embarking on their first tryst. He was still so damn unexpected, and she felt her own heat and desire building to an almost unmanageable level.

Then she was irritated that he was making her wait, toying with her when he had just successfully wound her up so tightly, his kisses, touches and licks just barely missing the mark. She grabbed his head to guide him, wanting to take charge of the situation. He moved up her body, stopping at each breast to grasp each nipple between his teeth and flick at the stiff peaks with his tongue and guiding her legs so they were wrapped around him. He loved being crushed by her shaking thighs.

He caught the look in her eyes. Lust. Desire. Need. The complete antithesis of pity. Nothing seemed able to rob them of their passion for each other. His brain finally shut down when he thrust into her and her body surged against him, all possible points of contact made, and she moaned that pleasured, sexy, desirous groan in his ear that he always craved.

"I'm never too tired for this," he groaned, as they found their pace and he guided her hips, wringing more patience from her than she was prepared to volunteer.

She smirked and nipped at his lip, raising an eyebrow, "I knew that 'poor guy' comment would get you."

She lifted her hips, counter-thrusting, against the pressure of his hands. He ceased all motion for a moment and looked at her face, "You sneaky little…"

She kissed him before he could finish his statement and pushed him over, so she was straddling him. "Sometimes I'm still the boss," she said, as she sunk down onto him and groaned, giving him all of the visual stimulus he could ask for, and leading them with steadily increasing pace to their finish. She collapsed onto him, clumsily pulling covers up over them. "You warm enough?" she asked, but was greeted with a snore.

"Poor guy," she giggled, patting his face and cuddling against him before falling asleep herself.

When she started to wake up after hours of well-earned sleep, he whispered against her ear, "We all know about the selfish bastard in me." She smiled, as she listened to his voice, although her eyes were closed, still in the comfortable calm of just waking up. Then he added, "I'm just glad you let me be the selfish bastard in you too."

Her eyes popped open, while he almost giggled at his own joke and she smacked his shoulder. "You are such a pig," she said, laughing at the immature quip.

* * *

><p>Later that afternoon they drove to meet the real estate agent. On the drive over, Cuddy made her daily phone call to Nadia Williams.<p>

"Hey, Lisa!" Nadia said cheerily, growing accustomed to their discussions.

"So…how's Ava?" Cuddy asked, waiting for the typical response.

"Actually, she's been moved. We're trying a new home," Nadia said. "She's not hurt, she's healthy…she's fine…some homes are good for some kids, and some aren't."

Cuddy's mouth was open as she tried to comprehend the fact that Nadia _actually_ gave her information and that Ava had to be moved. "Nadia, we can do it. We can take her," Cuddy said softly. "She felt safe with us. She was happy. You know we would never hurt her…don't you?"

She could see House in her peripheral vision, watching the conversation with interest.

"I found her another place already, Lisa. I just wanted you to know. She is OK. I'll tell you what, I'll let you know how she's doing once in a while…no details…but please…this has to stay between us."

"Definitely," Cuddy assured her. "Any chance we can see her? I'm sure we can work _something_ out…please."

"You know I can't do that. I just…know you guys really like her. And I want you to know that she's OK."

"Thanks," Cuddy said. "I appreciate it."

"Talk to you tomorrow!" Nadia said sweetly.

Cuddy's eyes were tearing up, the fact that Nadia budged, if only a hair, at least showed that their persistence was paying off. It took every ounce of her strength to continuously exercise patience, but she did, in the hopes of keeping their names fresh in the social worker's mind.

* * *

><p>The realtor showed the couple three homes. He was friendly and eager, although none of the houses really suited the pair. They wanted something that required little maintenance, preferably where one floor living was possible. Most of the houses simply didn't feel right.<p>

Over the next month, the sale of Cuddy's home in Baltimore was finalized, and they continued to look for a new home, although they seemed to have difficulty finding one. They finally settled on a large unit in an old factory. The place occupied the entire fourth floor, steeped in history, beautifully refurbished, and had an amazing view with the convenience of an elevator. There were three bedrooms, one they could use as an office. The kitchen was modern, and perfect for anyone who enjoyed cooking, and it opened out into a large living area.

The day they found it, they had just seen a single-story townhouse in a gated community. "I'm not going to walk around in a…white v-neck sweater vest and take my golf cart down to get the mail with that phony ass smile plastered on my face," House sneered, when Cuddy asked what he thought. "This place has an owner's board filled with bored and lonely people who vote on whether or not you can have a fucking lawn gnome. This will never work."

As soon as they approached the building where they eventually bought their home, both House and Cuddy seemed intrigued. When the realtor opened the door, and House saw the wide expanse of space he smiled, "She could skateboard in here. I'm sold."

Cuddy continued daily chats with Nadia. House decided against the support group meetings, and convinced Cuddy that meeting with a psychologist who specialized in dealing with children from abusive homes was a better use of his time and hers.

One of the last nights they were staying at Kate's, the doorbell woke them from their sleep. Cuddy looked at the clock, and saw it was 1 am. House was already climbing out of bed and she hopped up, grabbed a robe, and hurried to the front door. Her intention was to peek out, see who was there, but when she heard a very sad, yet very familiar cry, she hurried with the locks and flung the door open.

House was just catching up, making it to the door when he heard Cuddy practically sing, "Come here, Baby!" as she reached outside. When Cuddy opened the door, she was faced with the frantic, concerned face of Nadia Williams, trying to comfortingly bounce a screaming child.

The moment little Ava heard Cuddy's voice, her cry halted and she spun around, turning away from Nadia, and reaching for Cuddy. Cuddy couldn't help but tear up as the little girl hugged her around the neck so tightly it sometimes felt as if she couldn't breathe. "How are you, Ava?" Cuddy asked through tears.

Cuddy's heart was so full it ached while she held the child. "I am so happy to see you! I missed you so much!"

"I miss you too," Ava said, between sniffling breaths.

House saw Cuddy holding the child, too stunned to immediately react. Nadia was behind her, "Lisa, please, I couldn't calm her down! I didn't know what to do!"

House and Cuddy both heard Nadia mumbling in the background, the woman, frantic and panicky, crying herself, but they were both too interested in the child to hear what the woman was saying. Cuddy clung to the child, at first unwilling to let go, until she saw the look on House's face.

He thought for a fleeting second of telling Nadia that she got what she deserved by taking Ava away from them, of throwing the proof of their capabilities into her face, but looking at Ava, he simply couldn't focus on the vitriol. "Hey," he said, and Ava lifted her head from Cuddy's shoulder and looked at him, immediately reaching for him. "What happened, kid? Why ya so mad?"

"I dunno," she said sadly, looking at him and then at the rocker.

House hobbled to the rocker, child in his arms, completely unaware of the pain in his leg that resulted from trying to do too much, too soon after getting out of bed without his cane. He sat down and she curled on him as if she had never left. Her legs were tucked up, one arm hooked on his shoulder, the other hand next to her own face on his chest. She was stutter-sniffling for a while as she slowly calmed. House thought about asking if he could take her back to her crib, which was still setup in the guest room, but it felt far too nice to have the little girl napping on him, and he wasn't sure if it would happen again, so he thought he should enjoy it while it lasted.

Cuddy got them each drinks and Nadia joined her on the sofa. They spoke in hushed tones as the child slept. "I haven't been entirely honest," Nadia said. "Well, I've been…sort of honest…Ava's had several homes."

"What happened to her grandmother?" Cuddy asked.

"She called me the first night. She couldn't handle her. They weren't a close family…Ava will be three next month, only met the grandmother once before I dropped her off."

"And the next home?" Cuddy asked.

"Look, Ava was doing well during the day…but at night…her night terrors were so awful they had her in the hospital twice. She would scream until she would pass out. She's been in…several homes. The one today, she was in for two days. They called me tonight, said they couldn't handle it, so I took her home…but I couldn't calm her down either."

Cuddy nodded, "So…are you going to reconsider us?"

"If anyone finds out I'm here, it means my job!" Nadia said.

"So," House said, in a very soothing, kindly sounding way, "You are more concerned with your job security than making sure this kid's safe."

"No, not at all," Nadia said.

House looked at her, non-verbally asking her to explain how she could make that statement. "_You_ knew it was best to come here. _We_ knew it was best for you to come here. _Ava_…well, when she wakes up from her _PEACEFUL AND COMFY_ nap, she'll tell you it was best for you to come here."

"Maybe you guys could stay with me for a few days while I get her settled? Or …if I need to…I could just come here for a few nights if she needs you?"

"Seems kinda unfair to the kid…dragging her in and out of our lives when we all seem to want the same thing for her," House replied. "I'm pretty sure being chauffeured between homes, is not the best."

"She needs something consistent," Cuddy proposed, "She's comfortable with us, don't you think it's cruel to keep pulling us in and out of her life? That's not _healthy_!"

"I spoke to your lawyer, he's going after an expungement?" Nadia asked.

"Yea," House answered.

"I'm going to see if I can do something…temporarily…"

House and Cuddy looked at each other, "Temporarily is better than nothing," he answered.

"If your lawyer can clean up your record…we won't have a problem," Nadia responded.

"Either way…we'll help, but we want to see her. We deserve it, and so does she," Cuddy interjected. "Let us be a consistent presence."

"OK," Nadia answered. "I'll arrange for some visits. You guys can come up to my place tomorrow for dinner."

"I'm going to take her to her crib," House said, as he stood.

"I better take her back to my place," Nadia answered.

"You can have the couch. The kid's already asleep," House whispered before walking back to the guest room and putting Ava to bed.

House emerged about fifteen minutes later. "Don't be an idiot!" he said, no longer concerned with being calm and tactful now that Ava was sleeping in the next room. "We'll work on the papers, but you can change your recommendation. Instead of worrying about what's best for your career, you can do what's best for the kid, and explain exactly what happened! Tonight is all the proof you need to change your recommendation."

"It isn't that simple!" Nadia insisted. "This is about rules and laws, not my career."

"Find a way to make it that simple," House said.

Nadia did sleep on the sofa, tired herself, and grateful for a few moments of sleep.

House dozed for a few moments, and woke when Cuddy got out of bed. He saw her standing in the doorway, watching Ava sleep. He leaned down and put his chin on her shoulder and whispered, "All of the lawyers, and rules, and money changing hands, and the funny thing is…when we get her back, it'll be because she said so…trust me, the kid's calling the shots."


	95. Chapter 95

**A/N**-_thank you to all of the readers and the reviewers since the last time: JLCH, IHeartHouseCuddy, Zaydasky, housebound, Boo's House, yahnis, IWUVHouse, Anonymous, lenasti16, Alltheloveintheworld, Bakerstreet Blues, ClareBear14, SissiCuddles, Alex, LoveMyHouse, LapizSilkwood, KiwiClare, Josam, Way Worse Than Scottish, Little Greg, Abby, HuddyGirl, dmarchl, TheHouseWitch, alddi, and PrincetonBlues  
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_I should be able to update every day this week. Thanks for continuing to follow, here's the next part.  
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**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>House and Cuddy moved a few days later, surrounded by Kate, Melanie, Wilson and Ann, who all helped them, in addition to a team of movers they hired to take care of all of the furniture. House remembered the last move he made, newly out of prison, when he decided to move closer to his job at Penn. He had to get a parole officer's permission just to move. He had almost nothing with him. That move was far from a joyous occasion, although nothing was joyous to him then.<p>

He could still remember his first night at Kate's, staring up at the ceiling in his bedroom, wondering if he would spend the remainder of his nights the same way. He didn't know, when he agreed to go with Kate to her bar one evening, that he'd like the music and the food, that he'd enjoy working there, and that he'd find a little niche. He also had no idea that, while he worked one night, someone who knew him from PPTH would see him, and then tell Cuddy where he could be found. He _never_ thought she'd walk through the doors of that bar. Never thought she'd talk to him again, or that he'd even see her face.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of her laughing in the far corner of the room at something Kate was saying. She looked over Kate's shoulder at him and when he met her gaze, she smiled subtly, a knowing smile shared between lovers, steeped in wordless communication. Cuddy patted Kate's arm and walked past her. "You excited?" Cuddy asked.

"It fits us," he said, nodding.

If he could have seen a glimpse of his future back when he sat in jail, or alone in his room, he'd never fathom what would happen next. Cuddy, _his Cuddy_, bit her lip before placing a subtly amorous, yet superficially chaste, kiss against his lips, and took his hand. She led him to the one bedroom, furthest down the hall, right next to theirs, and showed him the room they were setting up for the girl they hoped would be their daughter. Rachel's toddler bed was set up in the room, but all of the other furnishings were new. They bought them for Ava, concerned that they might be hoping for too much, but wanting to have everything ready for her.

* * *

><p>House and Kate were on the balcony, House sitting on the one piece of outdoor furniture that Kate finished assembling, and Kate sitting on the cold floor assembling the remaining pieces.<p>

"This is the whole reason why I needed a lesbian in my entourage," House said, as he watched her finish the assembly of another chair. "I'm what you call an enlightened man…I'm secure enough to admit to myself and others that it would take Wilson and I twice as long to put this shit together."

Kate laughed and shook her head, taking a swig from a bottle of beer before uprighting the chair, and gathering the pieces for the next one. "Ya know, you can still come hang out," he offered.

"I'd hope so…I don't think you're one to forget his friends."

"Are you going to be OK there, at the old place, alone?" he asked.

"House, I knew you were going to move, I had time to adjust."

"I'll still be around."

"I'm moving in with Mel," she answered suddenly, ceasing her work and looking up at him.

"Seriously?"

"Yea. She has the nicer place. I love it there but…our place has a lot of history."

"You aren't selling it?" he asked, sounding a little wounded.

"No…I'm renting it out to a couple of med students."

"You can't get rid of the place where we first fell in love," he teased.

"Lots of really, really drunken nights there," Kate added, chuckling.

"Busted windows, that end table I crushed, the night when you passed out with your foot in the refrigerator door and we had to throw out all of the food…" he said.

Kate laughed, "That night that I got the pictures of you with that guy from…"

"That was _not_ funny," he answered sternly.

"That'll teach you to pass out in _my_ room."

"You know, Cuddy asked if we were sleeping together?"

"Why would she ask that?"

"She didn't _now, _when we first met up again, she asked if you and I were hooking up for fun."

"God! That's not fun, that's disgusting!" she said, making a gagging sound.

"It's not _that_ disgusting. I have this theory that all women secretly want me."

"You did tell her the truth! Right?"

"Yes."

"Thank god, I can't have you sullying my reputation. I have a certain standing within the community," she said with a grin.

"What reputation is that? The slutty one…the self-indulgent one…"

"I've reformed _those_ reputations," Kate replied with a grin, as she nodded through the door at her girlfriend standing inside. "The reputation I'm preserving: Boy free since nineteen-sixty-three," she chanted.

"An impressive feat," he said sarcastically. "You weren't even born yet in 'sixty-three, I've been boy free even longer than you, loser."

"I know…that's the best slogan you're gonna get when I only have a few seconds to come up with one."

"You're going to still come around right…see us…hang out with the kid…"

"Definitely!" Kate answered. "Why…will ya miss me?" she asked teasingly.

"No…but I need a _really_ strong male role model for Ava…someone who can assemble furniture and do the heavy lifting."

"You are such an asshole…and strangely self-deprecating at the same time. Makes it harder to really hate you," she joked.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his tone suddenly serious. "Thanks for dragging me out of…where I was. Letting me stay with you. Getting me to go to the bar and work with you…because what I have now…I wouldn't have if I wasn't able to stay clean…actually, who knows if Cuddy would have even found me if I wasn't working there. And…thanks for being a pathetic softie who can't say no…because if you weren't, we never would have met the kid."

She stopped assembling for a moment, and looked up at him. "You're welcome," she said genuinely.

"It's funny that I somehow managed to make the most of your faults," he joked.

"I guess you did. Thanks for helping me too, really, I had a rough couple of months there," she said, returning to her work and avoiding his gaze. She stopped and stood up and looked at him, "And for talking me into meeting with Foreman. Even though his _subtle_ way of asking about you was a little patronizing…did he _really_ think that I thought he was just making conversation?"

"Probably. He's a good neurologist," House said, "but I don't think he's as crafty in the art of delving into people's psyches as he thinks he is…"

"He is a _damn_ good neurologist," she said, holding up a screwdriver in her hand and easily grasping and letting it go. "I never thought I'd be able to do this stuff."

"I did notice things seemed to be working pretty well."

"Hell yea," she said, as she flipped another chair upright and sat on it.

* * *

><p>Later that afternoon, their friends left, and they were preparing for their daily visit with Ava at Nadia's house. House was still showering, and Cuddy had just finished getting dressed, when the doorbell rang. Nadia and Ava were on the other side. The child looked at bit apprehensive about the new space, but immediately went to Cuddy. "Is this…an unannounced visit as a social worker, or a drop by from a friend?" Cuddy asked Nadia.<p>

"Actually, a little of both…wow, I love this place," Nadia said, as she looked around. "And it's not even five minutes from my apartment!"

Cuddy nodded, "Makes the late night visits easier. Plus…I would like for us to start stopping by in the morning, maybe helping her get ready for daycare…giving her breakfast…"

Nadia looked like she was considering rejecting the request, when Cuddy intervened, "Look, instead of taking her to daycare, couldn't House and I keep her one or two days a week to start. When we have cases, it would be one of us. Then you wouldn't have to take her to daycare every day when you work. How about…one day a week to start…Fridays…I can even do it up at your place, if it makes you feel more comfortable."

Nadia said, in a joking tone, "Shhh…settle down! Look, I was actually wondering if you could keep her until Monday morning. My mom…had a heart attack. She's doing fine…but I'd like to visit her…upstate New York. If I show up with Ava, she's going to start on the grandkid thing again…and…I know you'll take great care of Ava. It's the weekend, we should be OK. I'm…asking you as my friend, not in any…_official_ capacity. What do you think?"

Cuddy looked thrilled, "Oh my god yes! Well, I mean, we aren't all unpacked here…but…I think things are good enough. Come see the room we have for Ava."

"You already have a room ready for her?" Nadia asked.

Cuddy looked down, and kissed Ava's forehead, while the girl played with a strand of Cuddy's still damp hair. "Yea…we're still hoping that…soon…"

"I know," Nadia said, "Let me see the room!"

Ava's apprehension about the new space lifted when she saw her new room. There were toys, plush animals, and books all around the space. In the corner, sat the rocker that House used to calm Ava at night. When they moved, Kate gave it to them for Ava's room. It looked a bit odd in there, a room with pale colored, youthful furniture and brightly colored decorations, with one old, somewhat rickety, rocker gracing the corner.

Cuddy knelt on the area rug in the center of the floor. "This room is for you when you come to stay with us!"

Ava smiled widely, picked up a plush ladybug, and wandered happily around the room.

Nadia hugged Cuddy when she stood. "Thank you, Lisa. You have my number, if you need anything don't hesitate to call!"

"She'll be fine here."

"I know…I'm sure she'll love being with you guys."

* * *

><p>Cuddy had some of Ava's toys spread across the carpet, and the two were happily playing there.<p>

When House was dressed, he saw the light on in Ava's room, and walked back there. "Oh my god!" he said, in a joking voice, when he saw the little girl, "I had no idea this place came with a _real_ kid!"

Ava grinned and waved like she always did when she saw her tall, gruff friend, and wandered over to him for a greeting. Cuddy explained to him why Ava was there, and then she said, "We have no food in this entire place. I figured we'd stop on the way home from Nadia's, but obviously we aren't going to Nadia's. I could take her along, but it might be nice to let her get used to it here. You want grocery duty or kid duty?"

"Oooo…such a difficult decision," he said sarcastically, "you battle the grocery store, I'll stay here."

He immediately grabbed blocks, and he and Ava set out on their usual quest to build the highest structure possible. Of course, often just when it started to get really interesting, Ava would grow impatient, and topple it to the floor.

Cuddy left, and they played for a few minutes. Ava stood and looked at House, "Now I hafta pee!" she announced proudly.

"OK, kid, we already have your personalized throne set up for you."

When he took her into the bathroom he noticed it was dark outside. He decided that he would try to give Ava a bath, so she would be ready for bed after dinner. He stared at her tub, and back at her. "You want a bath?" he asked, seeing the girl smile in response.

She learned to love taking baths. She loved her penguin tub toys, and bubbles, and making gigantic messes. This was part of the reason why it was so nice that he and Cuddy had their own bathroom. He started gathering all of the supplies, trying to think of everything he needed. He wanted to surprise Cuddy, figuring she'd never suspect that he'd take care of bath duty on his own, particularly without being prompted. He wasn't worried that Cuddy thought he was unable, but he _was_ concerned that she thought he was unwilling. This was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate that he was a ready and willing participant in all aspects of childcare.

He had everything ready. Ava played on the floor next to the tub, and he sat on the footstool. He carefully checked water temperature, had the toys already bobbing in the tub, and even some child safe bubbles. He gathered her washcloth, towel and soap and put them in their places too, so he'd never have to leave her unsupervised. "See," he said, "I might actually know what I'm doing!"

Ava grinned at him, "You know I love bubbles."

"Yup, I know!" he said, as he lowered her into the tub.

While she played, he tried to make a pyramid out of her multicolored penguins on the side of the tub. She erupted in a near fit of laughter when he actually had all of them balanced, and she flung her soapy wet washcloth at the toys, successfully knocking them down and flinging the cloth right at House's face. When he blew the bubbles away from his mouth, she started giggling again.

"Is this funny?" he asked.

"Yup!" Ava said gleefully.

He carefully washed her hair, being certain to use the right shampoo, and appropriately warm water from the spout. He filled her bowl and carefully poured the water over her head repeatedly avoiding her eyes. "I am so good at this!" he said confidently, when her hair was washed.

"You are!" Ava answered.

The doorbell rang, and he looked down at his, thankfully, waterproof watch. Cuddy must have forgotten her new key. He looked at the girl, and toward the bathroom door, and then back at the girl. Deciding he shouldn't leave her, even for a moment, in the tub alone, he stood her up, and grabbed the towel. He wrapped it around her shoulders, and she promptly stepped out of it, allowing the towel to fall into the water. He tried, in vain, to grab it before it was completely submerged, succeeding only in slopping water onto the floor and soaking his socks.

House looked around, there weren't any towels stored in her bathroom closet yet. He didn't want to leave her, knowing that the second he left her unattended, something horrible would happen. He sighed for a second and then picked her up, holding the soaked child against his tee shirt, water spreading across the fabric of his shirt, and dripping onto his jeans, and socks. He gripped the wall for support, accidentally grabbing the shower curtain on the edge of the tub, and pulling it down from the rod. "FFF…" he started to curse, until he heard Ava laughing at the predicament, at her soaked caregiver, and the mess that was unfolding in the little bathroom.

"Crap," he said, editing his words. He hobbled into the master bathroom, grabbing one of the large towels there, and wrapping her in it. The damage was largely done, he was soaked, his socks squished and splattered when he walked. At least the kid was happy. The doorbell rang again, this time, more insistently.

"She's gonna have to wait," he said to Ava.

He finally had her wrapped up, looking more like a caterpillar than a child, and he pulled her to his chest. He was soaked and disheveled, and ready to give Cuddy a deserved guilt trip about forgetting her key. He opened the door and said, "Well, Mommy, this is what happens when you leave Daddy home with the…" he looked at the visitor, swallowed, and then finished his sentence, "…kid."

The insistent doorbell ringer was not Cuddy, it was his mother. Who looked at him, at Ava, and back at him several times before she said, with a tone of great surprise, "Hello, Greg."

"Hey, Mom!" he said, trying to sound happy.

"Not your _Mom_!" Ava said, wriggling her hands free from the towel, and grabbing his face to make sure he was paying attention to her.

"It _is_ my Mom," he answered the child.

"Oh. You sure?"

"Pretty sure!" he answered.

Blythe extended her hand to the child in a very effeminate, gentile handshake, "Who might you be?"

"I'm Ava," she said, nodding.

"It is very nice to meet you," Blythe said, capturing the child's small hand with hers in greeting.

"Come in," House said, still dazed.

As the shock of seeing her son with a small child began to pass, she got a better look at his condition. Noticing his wet clothes, she said, "Do you need help, dear?"

"I've got it under control," he replied.

"You're …pretty soaked."

"I was doing fine until I had to answer the door," he responded.

"Sorry. I figured if I called ahead, you'd find excuses…you'd be…busy."

"How did you know we were here…let me guess…"

"You can't blame James for this one," she interrupted, "I'm not stupid and you got your brains from somewhere, son. So…is this your…" she looked at Ava. "What is this adorable little girl doing in your care?"

"Cuddy and I are trying to adopt her. For this weekend, we're babysitting."

He could see his mother's eyes instantly well with a few tears. "My first grandchild," she said, happily taking Ava from his arms, still wrapped in her towel. "Go change your clothes, Gregory, you look soaked."

House watched them for a second, prepared to tell his mom that Ava would likely need time to get used to her, but Ava seemed to know when she was instantly adored, and put on her sweetest faces for the already enamored woman.

"Mom," House said.

"Not now, dear. Go change, we'll be here, getting acquainted."

When House tried to make his way back to his room to change, Ava grew uneasy. "Better let her get used to you for a bit before I leave you girls alone," he said, returning to the living area, and grabbing a chair from the dining table that wasn't lined with fabric, so he wouldn't soak it with his wet clothing. Ava began to investigate the unfamiliar presence in the new place, keeping one eye anchored on House, while she studied Blythe.

Cuddy came home, greeting the woman and the child in her living room, only momentarily surprised to see Blythe next to Ava. She dropped the food onto the counter, and looked at House's water-logged socks. She followed the trail of water back to Ava's bathroom. House joined Cuddy, but remained in the hall where Ava could still see him. Cuddy was staring into the now chaotic bathroom, that only a few hours earlier, was lovingly setup, tidied, and stocked by Melanie and Ann. House grimaced as he awaited her response, ready to incur her wrath.

"So, I wanted to give Ava a bath before you got home, and I really screwed it up," he confessed.

She turned around, and he actually winced, just a bit, in anticipation of what was to come, when she kissed his chin, "Thank you, that's so sweet!" she said.

She walked into the bathroom and started to deal with the aftermath of House bathing Ava.

"Is…senility setting in already?" he said with confusion. "I destroyed the place in the process."

Cuddy laughed, "Not destroyed. It's a little messy. Kids are messy. Took me a long time to figure that out, save yourself the struggle and accept this now."

"_I_ don't mind messy…_you_ mind messy…which is why I mind it…I mind it vicariously."

She turned and smiled at him, "I can deal with it. Thanks for giving her a bath."

He watched her cleaning, keeping an eye on Ava in the living room with his mother, still confused by Cuddy's calm. "You must really like that kid," he said.

"I do. And I learned a lot about what matters. We have Ava here with us today, I'm not going to get upset about water when I'm just happy she's here!"

"Cool," he answered, still a little suspicious.

She let the water out of the tub, and stood on the edge of it, hooking the curtain back up, and wiping down some of the puddles that had appeared around the room. "Didn't expect your mom!" she said.

"Me neither! You know we'll never get rid of her now," he said, looking out into the living room at his mom and the girl.

Within a few minutes, it was as if nothing ever went wrong in the bathroom. Cuddy grabbed the pajamas from the counter, one of the few dry items in the room, and walked out into the living room while House went to change his clothes. Blythe took the pajamas from Cuddy's hands and said, "I'll dress this lovely lady."

It was astounding, within fifteen minutes, Blythe House met Ava, introduced herself, and was already completely in love. Although initially hesitant, Ava did seem to be warming up to the adoring presence in the living room. Blythe was a calm soul, with a soothing voice, and easy manner, perfect for the little girl to accept into her environment.

"Now I _have_ to move closer!" Blythe announced.


	96. Chapter 96

**A/N- ** _thanks to everyone who read and all of the reviewers: Josam, JLCH, suzmum, SissiCuddles, housebound, alddi, IHeartHouseCuddy, lenasti16, Boo's House, Bakerstreet Blues, Mon Fogel, dmarchl, TheHouseWitch, CaptainK8, IWuvHouse, jkarr, KiwiClare, Way Worse Than Scottish, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl and ClareBear14.  
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_Chapters like these always make me nervous. I hope you guys like it...my take on a long time question...and some other stuff.  
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**Discl****aimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD_

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><p>Later that evening, after Ava was tucked in bed in her new room, Cuddy was sleeping as well, and House and his mother were talking. Their conversation was pleasant enough, although superficial. Ava began to scream, clearly in the grips of a night terror. House started to get up to walk back to her room and Blythe put a hand to her chest, "Dear god, what's wrong with her?" she asked with concern.<p>

House looked back angrily, "Nothing's wrong with _her," _he said angrily before leaving for her room.

Ava calmed shortly after House picked her up and began their ritual. She was having fewer night terrors, only a handful a week, a vast improvement from a couple of times each night. Some, Nadia could soothe, when she couldn't, he and Cuddy always went to Nadia's to calm the girl. He was leaning back in the rocker, Ava curled on top of his chest and shoulder, when his mother appeared in the doorway. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything was _wrong _with her, she just startled me. I'll rock her so you can sleep," she offered.

"No thanks," he said softly, so as to not disturb the child. "I've got it."

Blythe disappeared from the doorway slowly. He rocked Ava for a while, and once she was completely calmed, he put the girl back in her bed, and walked out to the living area.

"Is she feeling better now," Blythe asked hesitantly.

"Yea, she's fine," House said, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

"You are really wonderful with her. She seems to respond well to you."

"I guess."

"Was that one of those…dreams?" she asked.

He sighed as he closed the refrigerator door.

"You used to have them sometimes…terrors, right?" she pressed.

"I had nightmares. She has terrors."

"A bit young for that, isn't she?"

House tapped the kitchen counter with his fingertip and said, quietly, "People are assholes, Mom. Sometimes people are even assholes to kids like her. Kids that don't deserve it. She…had a bad start, that's all."

"What happened to her?"

"It's complicated," he answered simply.

"What happened to her?" she asked again.

"I said, she had a bad start. She's doing better now."

"Did someone hurt her?" Blythe ventured forward, nervously. She knew she was treading into dangerous territory, the type that would make him drop the conversation altogether.

"She's a sweet kid. Hardly an _undisciplined troublemaker_. She did nothing to deserve it."

"Lots of kids are hurt by people…and did _nothing_ to deserve it," she said, reaching for his arm sympathetically.

He pulled back, "Well," he said, with a feigned chipper attitude, "Time for bed!"

He started for the hall and she said, "If you're angry with me, you should tell me."

"Why are you here?" he asked tersely.

"I wanted to see you, and Lisa, and your new home."

"You could have called."

"I knew you'd avoid me."

"I'm not avoiding you. I had nothing to do with your last-minute invite to Arlene's. I had no idea she was even having a party."

"I didn't think _you_ were the reason I didn't get an invitation."

"Good." House was moving on, trying to get away from the discussion, when he found her comment strange. Too strange to allow it to pass unexplored. "Then…what did _you_ think was the reason you didn't get an invitation?" he asked, turning back to her.

"Arlene is not fond of me."

"You seemed to get along fine. Apart from Arlene's innate Arlene-ness."

"We spoke…the night of the argument between her and Lisa."

"Arlene's crazy," he said calmly. "But, I really don't think that's a reason for her to avoid someone. She seems to enjoy sharing her insanity with me…why wouldn't she enjoy sharing it with you?"

"When we were alone, that night, Arlene and I…" Blythe began. "She said that a well-disciplined child wouldn't have grown up to be such an spiteful adult…we were discussing your…anger toward her…after what she said to Lisa about Rachel."

"OK…"

"And I said…you _were_ well-disciplined, more like _over_ disciplined. I mentioned that…your father was rough. Strict."

"Ugh," he sighed, rubbing his forehead with frustration. "Don't discuss things like that about me with anyone. Especially not with Arlene. Now she probably thinks I'm more volatile than she did before. It's simple, she wanted me to be at the party with as few allies as possible, so she didn't invite you…don't read any more into it than that."

"On the contrary. She asked me some questions…about your father…I avoided them, but…I think she saw right through me. Arlene…is a very perceptive woman."

"And…" he said nervously.

"She read between the lines. Her face…changed. She said that…a good mother makes sure her children are well-behaved…but, more importantly, a good mother makes sure her children are safe."

House looked as if the words physically hit him, he was desperately trying to make sense of what was being said.

"Son," Blythe said softly, "She didn't leave me out because she thought I'd be your ally…she left me out because she thought I _wasn't_ your ally. She thought I was a bad mother."

If House could have physically left his own skin, and disappeared, he definitely would have. That moment was so painful, so uncomfortable, and confusing…that he needed to get away. His mother stood in front of him, her eyes sad, as she read his every thought. He wondered if he should console her, tell her that none of it mattered, change the subject, or if he should just get out of there.

"I did the best I could at the time. Hindsight… I love you, son. I hope you know that," Blythe said, her tone soft and motherly.

House broke from his overactive head for a moment, and looked at his mother, who had a pleading look on her face. "I know," he answered. "Good night, Mom."

"Gregory, please. Do this for me. You care for that little girl, don't you?"

"That…is highly irrelevant to our discussion of Cuddy's mother."

"You know this isn't a discussion about Arlene. Or Lisa. You are trying to fix your past by saving this child."

His brow furrowed, "So…you think this is an act of selfishness. That…I'm interested in the kid to mend my past?"

"It's not unreasonable after everything you went through."

"Sad that my own mother expects selfishness from me."

"It's not selfish to want to feel better when you're hurt. You're a doctor, people come to you every day for that very reason. I wish I could change the past."

"I'm not asking you to want that," he said, looking around the room.

"I wish I had the opportunity to do everything over…"

"Who's my father?" he asked abruptly, a question at the spur of the moment that he never would have asked had he not already been so off-kilter.

"John House," she answered with forced certainly, but the quiver in her voice gave her away.

"I am _not_ an idiot. If _this _is how this conversation is going to go, I'm going to bed."

"I know you aren't an idiot. John House raised you as his own…he is…your father."

"You have one more opportunity to continue this conversation. I'm tired of this…because…you want honesty from me, but you won't give me that honesty in return. Was it Bell?"

"Thomas? Why would you think…"

"Just answer the question without asking another question."

"No. It wasn't Thomas. I…" Blythe was considering whether or not she wanted to answer that question. The conversation was the pin-prick sized intersection where two people, one with a question that he thought he'd never ask, and one with an answer she thought she'd never divulge, thought they'd never find themselves. But both of those people, through tiredness, through the presence of an unexpected child with a painful past, were so off of their normal balance that the discussion somehow became possible in that moment. She wanted to stop, she didn't want to have this conversation with her son, but she realized they'd probably never find themselves at that exact spot ever again.

She took a deep breath, looking skyward momentarily and continued, "I went home to visit my parents while John was deployed. It was…a friend from school…an old flame. He was married…and I was lonely…"

"…and also married…"

"Yes. I was married. It was a mistake. I've made mistakes…not that I consider having you a mistake…ever…" she answered.

"I should have been more specific, I'm not an idiot or a child. I don't need you to tell me that I wasn't a mistake. Who was it?"

"Frank."

"Just…some _guy_ named Frank?"

"Frank Callahan. I loved him dearly when we were in school together. He was a musician…I always found your love of music such an interesting connection."

"That's an anti-climactic end to a puzzle that's been in my head for forty years," he said with frustration.

Blythe thought for a few moments, and then made an offer, "Do you…want to know about him, or…would you rather not?"

House stared in the distance for a few moments, trying to decide. He had a name, did he want to know more?

He bobbed his head. They'd gone that far.

"We went to high school together," she began, her eyes showing the incredible depth of feeling that must have been there at one time. "He was my first love. I was certain we'd marry one day, and we had definitely discussed it. He wanted to become a physicist… He was…too smart for any of the schools at home, and was going away to college. I could accept that we would be separated for a while, in fact, as the day grew closer for him to leave…well, we started to talk about getting married so that I could go with him. And…I found out he wanted to move to DC permanently. I didn't want to move away from home. It started out as this little argument…and then…everything got so out of control. I don't know how it escalated like that, but the next thing I knew, I was telling him that I never wanted to see him again…"

Genuine emotion flickered behind Blythe's eyes, as she remembered the events of her distant past. She took a moment to look at her son, to make sure he was still interested in the story, so she could gauge if she should continue. "You know what's ironic is…right after that, I married a Marine and spent most of my life travelling, unable to ever really make a home anywhere," she chuckled. "Anyway, your father…John…was deployed…and I hadn't seen Frank since the day we ended our relationship. I was…mixed up in all kinds of craziness while John was gone, but, one weekend I decided to go home. I ran in to the corner store to see an old friend...and there…at the counter…was Frank. Just home for a few days, helping his mother take care of the sale of the family home after his dad passed. I was going to pretend that I didn't see him…I had no idea what I'd even say. We said…terrible things to each other that day when we fought, and how do you just…strike up a conversation after a fight like that?"

"Well," she continued, her voice sounding hopeful even in the retelling of her tale, "He came up to me and just said, 'I'm sorry.' It was quiet, I could barely hear him. And when I turned, he smiled. We went for a walk. Talked about years of pain and sadness, caught up, and I wondered how it was possible that I _ever_ could have allowed everything to go so terribly wrong…when I had been _so close_ to happiness. I took his hand while we walked, and I found his ring…the proof that he _was_ married. He had two children, two sons…his wife was expecting again. He…built his life, and I…I was not part of it. He told me about his family, and I told him about John. We were both honest, we were both leaving the next day…I don't know…it was like stepping back in time, I suppose, and we made some foolish decisions. I hated parting the next day…but…we both knew what had to be done. How different life could have been for us."

"Did Dad know about him?"

"I think he suspected. He came across some pictures and…you look a good bit like Frank."

House nodded, his face much less angry as the truth of the story was revealed, "Does he know I exist?"

"I didn't tell him."

"You didn't tell him? You didn't think he deserved to know?"

"I didn't want to break up his home…his marriage…or mine. I think he…really loved me…and if he would have known, we would have had very difficult and painful decisions to make. I didn't want to hurt all of those people…"

"So you settled for hurting me. And Dad. He probably would have appreciated the honesty, rather than looking like a fool."

"It's so easy to judge in retrospect. Things were so different then. And to be honest, I felt I was making the best decision for you. Although, the suspicion, the embarrassment...I think it led to so much of John's anger toward you."

"Likely," he answered calmly.

"I loved Frank so…I think…part of me will always love him."

"You loved him," House repeated, finding it hard to believe that his origins were ones of love.

"Absolutely. I was so glad when you and Lisa worked things out because…I know how these sorts of disagreements can plague a person. You had a wonderful opportunity, and you both accepted the risks, and put yourselves on the line. And it was worth it," she said.

He nodded absently.

"Look, Greg," she said, "I know I've hurt you with these…secrets…"

"Thanks for the truth," he said honestly as he looked at her.

"I'm sure you are hurt, but…"

"You were honest," he interrupted, "and now I'll return the gesture. I do not like the kid who's sleeping in the room down the hall because I want to feel better about myself…or…because I want to heal my past. I know the way her life can go…and I can do something to stop someone from feeling the way I felt. If someone doesn't help her…she'll end up miserable and alone, or she'll be slamming drugs in her veins by the time she's fifteen. And why? She just…happened to be a kid…in a place…where things went completely haywire. I am not exemplary parent material, I never will be. I'll probably be dead before she graduates high school. I can't even give the kid a goddamn bath. But I can be sure that no one else is going to hurt her. And…maybe…she can feel like someone in this world understands her without pitying her."

"I think you will make a wonderful father."

"I think…I'm the best option she has available."

"What I wouldn't do to change things for you…"

"I wouldn't let you if you could," he answered stoically. "Dad helped to make me exactly who I am, like it or not," he said as he nodded a goodnight.

He went back to his bedroom, after pausing to make sure Ava was still sleeping soundly, and sat on the edge of his bed. When the bed shifted from his weight, he heard Cuddy mumble, "Have a good time with your mom? Sorry I was so tired…all that moving. I hope she understood."

"She's fine," he said.

Cuddy reached over toward the spot where he sat and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him back into their bed. He was gripped by the desire to flee, to silently pack Cuddy and Ava, and disappear from that place forever. He wanted to find somewhere remote and safe, where they wouldn't have to deal with anything apart from themselves. No more criminal history, or guardianship rights, no more complications. He had images of the three of them, in some village somewhere, a place where Ava could explore the world, where she could really move on from the pain of her early life and start an entirely new life, and he and Cuddy would be safe from the things that threatened the happiness they found in each other. Cuddy interrupted his thoughts, speaking through a yawn, "You OK?"

He slipped down in bed next to her, and faced her, kissed her cheek, her chin, and twice, her lips. When he rolled onto his back, he pulled her arms around him and a leg, because he _wanted_ to be trapped by her. He wanted to feel her possession over him so he could sleep. She was warm from being underneath covers, and she molded to him. "Ava OK?" Cuddy asked.

"Yea, she's doing fine," he mumbled into her hair.

He thought she knew something was wrong, she seemed to know, even in her sleep, but exhaustion overtook her, and she was soon back to sleep.

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><p>House woke, smiling at the smells emanating from the kitchen. He heard the sounds of chatter and a giggling child. He rubbed his leg for a few minutes, trying to make sure he was ready to move before attempting it, his body tired from their relocation.<p>

When he finally made his way out to the kitchen, Ava was playing on the floor with Cuddy while his mother cooked. The woman could cook. He exchanged a brief smile with his mother while he found a cup of coffee and sat on a chair in the living room. He was somewhat impressed that his mother was still there in the morning. Her secrets over the years were frustrating to him, but he was certain that it was difficult for her to admit the truth, and likely somewhat embarrassing. Ava stood in front of him. "We're just making somefin'," she said.

"Smells great!" he answered.

Cuddy turned and made a face at him, signifying that she didn't think breakfast smelled good at all. He slunk down onto the floor and whispered, "Live a little…eating something a little bad once in a while is good for you."

Midway through breakfast, House received a call from their primary financial backer, Harrison Medford.

"My niece," Medford began, "is sick. Doctors have told her she has a cold."

"So…I'm guessing that means…she has _a cold_," House answered.

"She doesn't. Trust me, something's wrong here."

"Everyone worries that it's something more…try waiting it out a few days."

"It's been three weeks," Medford answered.

"If she's in school, it's not uncommon for kids to get back-to-back colds."

"Look, House," Medford said calmly, "I've stayed completely out of your cases. I haven't asked you for much of anything. I'm _asking_…it's my family."

House rolled his eyes, his face gnarled and displaying his profound objection to what he was about to agree to. "OK…sure."

"Thanks, she'll be at Princeton-Plainsboro tomorrow morning."

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><p>Blythe spent the rest of the day with them, enjoying the simplicities of a Sunday with family. She wondered how many people took these ordinary interactions for granted, and hoped her life would bring her so many more moments like that one.<p>

When Cuddy took Ava to prepare for bed that night, Blythe said to her son, "Are we…OK?"

"Nothing's changed," House answered.

"Are you planning on staying here for a while?" she asked.

"We bought this place."

"That's not really an answer. You were always so good at that," she smiled.

He gave her half a smile in return, "I don't know."

She nodded, "I'd like to be closer. I want to be part of that girl's life."

"I'm not even certain she's ours yet."

"If you move…just…let me know where you're going to be, OK?" she said.

He smirked, ever so slightly at her request. "Yea, OK."

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><p>In the morning, Blythe left for a hotel to give them some space, and Nadia came to pick up Ava. Cuddy looked particularly hurt when the time came to part with the girl, already becoming accustomed to her presence in the house.<p>

Nadia smiled at them on the way out the door, "Oh…one little detail I forgot to mention. In a few days, I have an appointment with your lawyer…a year and half…seems a long time to wait. We need to figure out how we can get her here, where she belongs. I'm…entertaining some other ideas. I can't thank you guys enough for babysitting."

"Well, if that's the case," Cuddy ventured, "maybe she could stay with us full time…unofficially…until we get the details sorted out."

"You are always pushing. I cave on one thing, and you keep pushing," Nadia said with a smile.

"I'm very persistent," Cuddy said, with a sad yet hopeful smile.

"I'm…not used to breaking rules. You'll have to take baby steps," Nadia said somberly. "I'm trying to help you, but I need to be careful. There are tons of other kids, besides Ava, that need me to keep my job so that I can help them too. Sometimes…it's all about making sure the right family finds out about the right kid."

After the door closed, Cuddy started to tear up ,and House looked at her. "We'll be seeing her again in about eight hours," he offered as consolation. "It's not goodbye."

They gathered their things and made the hour drive to PPTH. "Time to go wipe some spoiled brat's snotty nose!" House exclaimed, as they went in to meet Medford's niece.


	97. Chapter 97

**A/N**-_thanks to many of you for your kind words: lenasti16, KiwiClare, partypantscuddy, LoveMyHouse, JLCH, Boo's House, Josam, housebound, IHeartHouseCuddy, Mon Fogel, Zaydasky, southpaw2, iridescentZEN, jkarr, ClareBear14, LapizSilkwood, SissiCuddles, Bakerstreet Blues, dmarchl, alddi, Alex, A, Abby and HuddyGirl._

_I swore I wasn't going to take the story this way from the very beginning, but it was sort of insistent that this is how it wanted to be written. Thanks to JLCH for letting me bounce some ideas, and, as always, to the 'The Real Greg House,' for helping me stay (in)sane and sharing rants._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter includes adult content, if you don't want to read that portion, skip the end after the "*"_

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><p>They were at the office in PPTH the next day, awaiting test results for Medford's niece. House and Wilson were placing a bet on a relationship that House was certain existed between an ER nurse and the new assistant director of Human Resources, when Cuddy walked in carrying a case folder. "We already have a case," House said, "You know…that guy that gives us the money…has niece with the sniffles…did you forget?" He stared at her, waiting for a decent comeback to the groundwork he laid for a fine battle of words. "Is there…a problem?" he asked, when she failed to return the banter, and instead stared blankly.<p>

"No," she answered flatly.

"OK…" House said, extending the word.

"I'm…gonna go check on the patient!" Wilson said, looking for an excuse to leave the budding tension in the room.

After he left, Cuddy stood in the middle of the office, absently gazing out the window, somewhat disconnected. "Cuddy, is something going on?" House asked.

She suddenly snapped to attention and looked in his direction, "Your test results from Monday are back. Your liver function tests, cholesterol, everything…were all great, House. I don't know how you did it. You…are in great shape."

"I try to change livers every sixty-thousand miles, and I always keep a spare on hand _just _in case I need it," he joked.

"I'm relieved," she said. She walked tentatively to the front of his desk, and sat down in one of the chairs placed in front of it, her hands folded on her lap on top of the case file.

"No matter what happens, I still want Ava," she said calmly. "I can't stop loving that little girl."

"Congratulations…you just played the _best_ round of _state the obvious_ in recorded history!"

"I'm serious, House."

"So am I!" he insisted, and watched while she played with the case file in front of her. "You know how committed I am to this! I have…no idea why this is even coming up now."

His face drew blank, "My test results were fine…" he said, "It's…yours that you're worried about, isn't it?" His heart started to sink and he could feel the blood abandoning his face. "Is it…cancer?" he asked, his voice shaking almost unnoticeably on the last word of the question. "Whatever it is Cuddy…we'll fight it."

"Umm…" she said, "House…I don't think I want to fight it," she popped out of the chair again and started to pace.

"You're giving up before we even look at our options?" he asked with disbelief. He knew it had to be bad. "Just fucking tell me what's going on," he said, raising his voice slightly, but enough to catch an angry glare through the glass from Celia in the next room. Now he was scared, she was being cagey, avoiding the discussion…this couldn't be good.

"I'm pregnant," she said, louder than necessary, and then she bit her lip while she waited for a response.

His face was blank, his jaw hung slightly open. "Is this a joke?"

"Of course not."

"How long?" he asked, stunned. "Given the…history…we may want to wait and see…"

"Not long…estimating four to six weeks…but they're going to do an ultrasound tomorrow."

"We weren't really…" he began to say, and then stopped, still stunned.

"Do you have any idea how badly you'd torment _any_ other guy who was reacting like you are?" she chuckled nervously. "We may have stopped _trying_, but…we certainly didn't stop having sex. I…actually shouldn't have to remind _you_ of that. It was just us…acting…like we do."

"Right…" he said, in a sort of disconnected haze.

"It's too much all at once, isn't it?" she asked, her voice high with tension and concern.

"What?"

"It's too much to deal with right now…we'll talk about it later," she said, forcing a smile. "I just…wanted you to know."

He shifted his gaze to her and realized she was trying to hold her emotions in check. "See ya later, I'm checking on…something…" she said, waving her hand and trying to get out of the room as quickly as possible.

He missed just a step on her, but Cuddy was fast. She was out the door in no time, and flying down the hall. He spoke her name several times, loud enough that he knew she could hear, but trying to be subtle. "Fuck it," he mumbled. "Dr. Cuddy!" he shouted down the call, "Can you please give me that 'where do babies come' from hands-on tutorial again! I just can't quite figure out the last part and need a little refresher."

Everyone in the hallway turned to see what was going on, and a few people actually stopped to watch. She froze, her shoulders tense and pulled up high along her neck. She started walking, swiftly, angrily, back to him, looking like she was going to go on a tirade, and he grinned the most self-satisfied grin she had ever seen on him as he watched her stomp back. His grinning only served to feed her ire. When she got close, she opened her mouth to speak, her eyes red and wide, and then he said, "You've complained about my lack of subtly and professionalism at times during our history. I was trying to be both subtle and professional, and you ignored me…leading me to the conclusion that sometimes you _like_ me to be loud and obnoxious."

"I can't do this right now," she said softly, "we can talk at home."

"No…we can talk now," he said, nodding stubbornly.

"We can talk at home," she retorted.

"Ummm…no, now. You started this conversation, not me."

"I was…a bit surprised and I wasn't thinking. We'll talk in private," she said, looking around at the several people who were not-so-subtly watching their interactions.

He turned to face the gawkers and they scattered quickly. He squinted, accepting her challenge. After walking a few steps to the janitor's closet, he opened the door, and gestured with a nod of his head for her to enter. "Private," he said simply.

"I'm not going into the janitor's closet with you."

"I promise I'll behave," he said, loosely crossing his heart .

"I think it may give people the wrong impression."

"What…like you think they might think we actually have sex with each other and not just cuddle? I'm pretty sure they already think that, and within the next few months, it seems we're going to be making that fact crystal clear for anyone who may have doubted it."

"I'm just…"

"I can't wait several hours to discuss this with you. You're going to sit and worry, and get yourself all worked up for no reason. We both know how well things go when we assume we know what the other is thinking."

He could see she was considering it and then was expecting her rejection. "Or…" he said, "I can pick you up and carry you down to one of the clinic exam rooms…it's up to you."

"I don't think you could manage to carry me down to the clinic."

"You remember that I have a really hard time walking away from a dare…don't you? Keep in mind, that you just proved to me that you prefer loud and obnoxious me from time-to-time…if there's one thing I can do when called upon…it's loud and obnoxious."

She stepped a few steps inside the closet, shaking her head. Once the door was shut she said, "I understand this is too much for us to deal with right now, pregnancy, the adoption, and we shouldn't be discussing this at work."

"Sure we should. Stop worrying. This is…a little unexpected, but it shouldn't have been, we knew the possible consequences of our behavior. I just wasn't _thinking_ about it. We've been distracted."

"I know. I should have gone back on the pill when we decided to fight for Ava…but now…I _can't_ choose between them."

"No one…is asking you to," he said with a smile. "I told you I was fine with whatever happened, and I am. I mean…"

"What if they decide Ava needs to be the only child in the home…what if they see our home as unfit?" she asked, concerned.

"The advantage to our situation is…they _already_ see our home as unfit, at least on paper. If they decide she needs to be with us…because nothing else works for her…I think we'll still be OK."

"I don't want to tell anyone…until at least 16 weeks…just in case."

"You think people aren't going to be able to tell on you before 16 weeks? That is…_really_ delusional thinking."

"What you mean?"

"You're so insanely thin you'll probably start showing next week! Do you even own a bulky sweater?"

It was in that moment, in the midst of the banter, that the reality of the situation hit him. He stopped speaking and looked down at her, "_That's_ why you were tired this weekend. And who hates my mom's cooking? Please!" he said suddenly, finding her lips and kissing her ardently.

"Wait," she said against his mouth, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back. "Are you serious…this is good?"

"It's great. Even more evidence of what a hot piece of man action I am. As if the world really needed more proof."

She laughed, "I'm being serious."

"So am I. It's good, Cuddy."

"And nothing's changed with Ava?" she asked.

"Nothing has changed in regards to Ava. She's great with Adam, she likes people who are littler than her. We just…may have to divide and conquer sometimes so they both get the attention they need."

"Let's be reasonable, the chances of both working out for us are…slim to none."

"I can't promise nothing's going to go wrong…I wish I could," he said, pulling the file from her grip and opening it. "If they're guessing four to six weeks, hCG levels look great. You haven't had any morning sickness, that's too bad."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean. But the levels are high enough that you could be sick…so…yay!" he said.

"Just queasy and it's early yet. Damn, those potatoes fried in meat fat that your mom made smelled and looked so…"

"Shh…" he whispered, "let's not try to gross you out until you vomit…I get it, it didn't sit well with you," he said, with a little smile, before his eyes returned to the file. "Progesterone looks really good too," he said. "Tiredness will subside soon enough and…stop worrying!"

"I was nervous to tell you."

"Why?"

"The thought that we could go from zero children to two children in the space of a year is a bit daunting."

"It is," he nodded, "and I'm sure I'm completely unprepared. I know it."

"How overwhelmed are you right now?" she asked him.

"I'm not…" he began, but she was looking him right in the eye, steadfastly holding his gaze, "I'm a little overwhelmed. But…that doesn't mean that I think this is a mistake," he said, placing a hand low on her abdomen. "And it doesn't mean I think adopting Ava's a mistake. It just means…it's a lot to swallow all at once. How overwhelmed are you?" he asked.

She didn't expect the question, and answered, slowly, "I'm a bit overwhelmed, House. I feel like I have to remember and avoid all of the mistakes I made with Rachel, that I have…so many things to make up for…"

"Don't worry schnookems we'll make tons of brand new mistakes that you never even thought of before, and you can feel guilty for those," he said, trying, and failing miserably, to make her laugh. "It's a joke. Sort of. I mean, we will screw up…all of the time."

She dropped her head in her hands. "Oh god…" she groaned.

"You learned from your mistakes, like that time you sent Rachel to fend for herself deep in the Amazon with only a machete and a pack of waterproof matches…no…wait that probably didn't happen," he said, tapping his lips in thought. "What about that time you emotionally tormented her until she really believed she was worthless…" he added with a fake laugh. "No…I'm guessing you never did that either," he added seriously. "You care too much to hurt them. You'll try, Cuddy, that's what counts, and you care enough to feel bad when you screw up."

He leaned down and kissed her softly, disarmingly, slowly building her to a deeper, much more intimate kiss and hoping that she wouldn't notice the gradual increase in contact. She didn't seem to notice, or at least didn't protest, until his hands ventured down the curve of her back and lifted her against him. She giggled and tapped his chest, "Not today, House. Maybe when I'm less tired and the sex cravings really set in…maybe then I'll have sex with you in a closet at work without a lock."

His phone beeped and he scowled down at his pocket. He pinned his phone between his ear and shoulder and barked, "What?"

Although his voice sounded irritated, the expression on his face wasn't, while he watched his hand trail over her hip, along her side, coming up to cradle the side of her breast, as he was cataloging her body. His voice was gravelly when he finally responded, "It's fine. Cuddy and I will search her place, and we'll meet up after lunch."

He took his phone with one hand, ended the call, and shoved it back in his pocket. "Care to go detectiving with me?" he asked, as he ran his nose and lips along the line of her jaw, a pulled her earlobe between his teeth.

She shivered, and moaned softly, and could feel him smirk against the side of her face. "Sure," she answered, trying to sound unaffected, but much to her chagrin, sounding completely interested in his attention.

"I thought you might be," he whispered. "We'll go crash the residence…and then…perhaps some _lunch_…"

"I am not having _lunch _with you at the patient's home."

"Of course not…you're waiting in the car. If it's environmental I'm not taking you in there, that's stupid. I'm not exposing our little cluster of rapidly dividing cells to possible toxins."

"I'm weak in the knees at that expression of paternal protectiveness," she replied sarcastically, following the statement with a giggle.

"Expect mounds of wisdom and similar acts of selfless courage over the years to come," he said with a smile.

"Did you ask Medford if you could check out his place?" Cuddy asked.

"When have I ever?"

"Umm…when the home belongs to a billionaire…I'm guessing he has some security that might foil even your finely honed cat burglar techniques."

"Great, now you hurt my feelings," he replied wryly. "Let's go check out Medford's bitchin' pad."

Medford's estate was sprawling. Since the death of his sister, his niece and nephew were living in his home. House approached the door, where a housekeeper welcomed him inside. After waiting for quite some time, Cuddy was beginning to wonder why she had bothered coming along, when House popped open the door and hopped in the driver's seat.

"Why is there drywall dust on your jacket?"

House held up a double bagged piece of drywall covered in black mold. "Shoddy construction."

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

When he drove them to his apartment, he wasn't sure if Cuddy was interested in a mid-day rendezvous, but led her through the outer door to his apartment in the hopes of convincing her it was a good idea. She slipped between him and his door, and her hand darted to the front of his jeans, groping him while pulling him into a passionate kiss. Stroking him through the denim, and feeling the beginnings of a response, she uttered eagerly, "Unlock the door, House, before I have to screw you in the hallway."

He was fumbling along the top of the door, his fingers walking across the molding above his head to find the key, while her lips and fingers tempted him from his task. He finally found it, and she sighed with relief, just as a neighbor entered from outside.

The neighbor griped as he walked past, "If you're gonna have an affair, at least wait until you're behind closed doors…whatever happened to discretion?"

House's hand was still pressed to the jamb above his head, his other arm, under her arm, pinning her against him. He pulled his hand down from above the door with the key and he started trying to remember how to work the lock on the door. Once they were alone again in the hallway, she reached behind him, beneath his jacket, grabbing his ass and jerking him toward her suggestively. "Give me a second, it's hard to concentrate when you're doing that."

Cuddy fell back through the door a bit, stumbling two steps backward once he got it open, and pulling him through the door with her. "This was your idea," she said flirtatiously.

She stepped into the living room, near the sofa, yanked her form-fitting, off-white pullover up over her head and tossed it on the furniture. She reached behind her back to remove her bra, exposing her breasts for him, and slowly unzipped her skirt and slipped it down her legs, revealing panties that barely qualified as such, and thigh high nylons.

He puffed air through his lips, slowly emptying his lungs, "If I knew you were dressed like that, I would have insisted on the janitors closet."

"I've been neglecting you lately," she said, carefully removing her thong, "this morning, I decided I wanted to change all that…and then the test results distracted me a little."

She walked toward him, swaying her hips, and upon making contact, immediately parting his lips with her tongue, pulling a stuttered groan from deep in his chest. She pushed his jacket off of his shoulders and let it fall onto the ground. He felt her narrow fingers flicking each button on his shirt open and he almost shivered when he felt her hands move beneath his tee shirt. She clasped his hands beneath hers, where they rested on her waist, and pushed them over her hips, her outer thighs and back, to her ass, so he could pull her toward him. Once he was groping her to her liking, she finished opening his pants and helped him kick them to the ground, while removing any lingering garments from his body. She took one of his hands in hers, glancing back over her shoulder, and walked down the hall toward the bedroom, flirtatiously leading him.

She sat on the bed and leaned back, scooting backward seductively and pulling him down on top of her. "You are so unbelievably sexy," he breathed. "You will _always_ be sexy."

"You don't know that," she whispered, wrapping her legs high around his ribs and pulling him toward her.

"Trust me, I know that," he responded. She reached between them to guide their union and he mumbled, "Hold on there, oh eager one."

He lifted her with one arm each under her waist and hips, moving her further along the bed, before dropping her back down on the mattress. He parted her still stocking clad legs, and tasted her leisurely, observing a twitch in her thighs when he'd make the perfect contact with her heat. He wanted to ensure that she was properly aroused, but discovered that she was more than ready for him. After a few moments, when she felt her orgasm rising, she pulled him up her body.

She lifted her hips and used her legs to pull him tighter, closer, and guided him into her. They moaned together and remained still as pleasure pulsed, throbbed and concentrated at the heat of their connection. She started to move beneath him, hurrying the encounter a bit. He kissed her lips, her neck, she grasped at the muscles following the length of his back, roughly grabbing his body and begging him to continue. "More… please," she pleaded in his ear, driving him wild with want for her.

He sat up, pulling her ankles over his shoulders so he could see her, so he could watch the not so subtle undulation of her body, the bouncing of her breasts, the pleasured look on her face, and he was relieved when she reached a climax quickly, since he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her, and he knew watching her would cause him to peak all the more quickly. Her orgasm hit hard, her body tightening with pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets and pulling them away from the corners of the mattress as she loudly moaned his name and he poured himself into her. He dropped onto the bed next to her, and pulled her with him, on their sides, facing each other. "Can we keep this…illicit affair going for a while? I don't know if I'm ready to give this up yet," she gasped happily.

He laughed through heavy breath, still panting more loudly and desperately than he thought he should. "I'll have to start an exercise program to keep up."

She groped him again playfully, "I can help with that, I'm a personal trainer, of sorts."

He laughed, "I think you're right though, we need to carry on this…affair…forever. We need to run around on each other…with each other."

"Exactly!" she said. "If I ever heard you were sleeping with another woman…I just don't think I could take it."

"Now you know how I've felt for years," he said, kissing her forehead, "Well, I mean I'd be upset if you were sleeping with another man...if you _need_ to sleep with a woman," he added with a grin, "I'll make the sacrifice and set something up for you."

"How selfless," she said sarcastically, kissing him, and almost hopping out of bed, suddenly very invigorated, while he tried to muster the motivation to get up.

After they were dressed and ready to return to work, he offered to drive them back to the hospital, and found her vigor short-lived. After a few moments, she was slumped down in the passenger seat, fast asleep.


	98. Chapter 98

**A/N**-_Thank you so much to all of the readers, and for all of the reviews: Ola, KiwiClare, housebound, Josam, JLCH, GHLCForever, Alltheloveintheworld, Anon, jbully, SissiCuddles, IHeartHouseCuddy, Mon Fogel, jkarr, Zaydasky, Boo's House, Bakerstreet Blues, A, dmarchl, Anonymous, skieathuddyrepeat, anon, partypantscuddy, CaptainK8, lenasti16, Suzieqlondon, RedTulipAna, ClareBear14, TheHouseWitch, Alex, Jane Q. Doe, Abby, IWuvHouse, HuddyGirl and LoveMyHouse._

_Just so you know, I'm taking Cuddy's age off season 5. She should only be clocking in at about 44. Of course there's lots of age discrepancies on the show…but that's what I'm picking._

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD_

* * *

><p>When they returned to the hospital from Medford's home and their afternoon lunch, House took the drywall sample to the lab while Cuddy returned to the office. She found the entire team sitting around the conference table, watching her every move. She went through the door to her desk and sat for a moment, pretending to be listening to her voicemail and hoping the overly observant members of their team would find something else to concentrate on for a while. Kate moseyed into the office and sat down next to Cuddy's desk. Kate put her elbows on the desk, and rested her chin in one hand, leaned in and said, "Hey friend…former roommate, confidante, compadre…"<p>

Cuddy hung up her phone and said in her most administrative tone, "Need something, Kate?"

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean…nothing's going on," Cuddy said, an obvious lie based on body language alone. "What makes you think something's wrong?"

"Because eleven…no…twelve…people, came and found me in the cafeteria, in the bathroom, in the elevator…to ask me what you and House were arguing about in the hallway earlier today. That's an awful lot of people to come ask me about something that's…'nothing.' Don't you think? There is nothing quite like having other doctors, standing outside the bathroom stall, waiting for gossip."

"House and I argue, I shouldn't have to explain that to you of all people. In the annals of odd occurrences, House and I arguing here at work ranks up there with the sun, rising in the east, or death and taxes."

Kate sat back in the chair, folding her arms across her chest and smirking, "It must be good. Are you not telling me because _House_ doesn't want me to know, or are you not telling me because _you_ don't want me to know?"

"I'm not telling you because there's nothing to know," Cuddy said, with the slightest smirk at the end.

Kate pointed at her smirk, and Wilson popped his head through the door, "if you need to talk…I'm here," he said, as he walked through the door.

"Come on in, Wilson," Cuddy gestured him in through the glass door, and pointed to the seat next to Kate. "You both have nothing to worry about. Trust me," Cuddy said. "You guys are sweet, but everything is fine."

Cuddy breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like the situation was under control again.

Until Chase wandered through the door next. "Everything alright, Cuddy? About fifteen people came up and told me about the two of you hanging out in the janitor's closet earlier today. Place has ambiance, doesn't it?" he teased.

"We were _talking_," Cuddy said, with hint of frustration as she looked around the office. "Where in the hell's House?"

House wandered through the door, whistling. "Dropped of the…" House looked around the room at his team, all encircling Cuddy, and then at Cuddy, whose face was covered with frustration. "Hey guys, is this about the case, or is Cuddy doing parlor tricks again and you couldn't stay away?"

"Patient's fine," Chase said, "we were just talking about a few things with Cuddy."

They all stared at House. Chase spoke up first, "Every one of us has been questioned about a little argument between the two of you in the hallway, followed by an absence of a decent amount of time in the janitor's closet. People seemed to think that today's argument was personal in nature."

"It wasn't an argument," Cuddy said. We were just…"

"Negotiating sex," House interjected with a shrug, "I won."

Cuddy jaw dropped open, her face shocked, and he shrugged with a look that said, 'what did you want me to say, the truth?'

"Now," House said to the team, "About our _case…_you guys remember, Drippy McSniffles, don't you?"

"You _hire_ people and teach them specifically to notice things," Chase said, "You berate us if we let details go by unobserved, and expect us to be able to interpret those observations. Now you're irritated that we're gathering and interpreting details…using the skills you encourage us to hone…"

"No, I expect you to observe facts, and report them to _me_, so that _I_ can interpret them. Since I was there at the moments in question, I don't really need any facts, or interpretations from any of you. Sound good? Now…mold allergy. Drippy has one."

"Everybody's here!" Celia said loudly as she walked through the door from the hallway. "Gathering all of the staff together to tell them the news?"

House's eyes got wide. "What news?" Kate asked. "Did you guys finally get Ava?"

"Oh, you got that little girl," Celia said happily, continuing the miscommunication. "I couldn't be more thrilled, that child is so dear. And she just belongs with the two of you. And now you're doubly blessed. So, when's the baby due?"

House and Cuddy were there, still stunned, nearly silent witnesses to the situation as it unfurled, and somehow managed to answer, tentatively, but in unison, "What baby?"

"No fucking way!" Kate said, looking directly at Cuddy, "You're pregnant?"

"They still haven't reached a decision on Ava," House said. "And… there's _NO _baby?

"Oh, sorry," Kate answered.

"Don't buy it," Chase said, "he's playing with words. With House you always have to know how to ask the right questions in the right ways. When's the…embryo or maybe it's already a fetus…due?" Chase smiled knowingly.

"You'd call your own child a _fetus_?" Celia asked, with a pile of motherly rage.

"This is how rumors get started," Cuddy deflected.

"Look at me, boy," Celia said to House, the team giggling a bit by the way the older, smaller woman seemed to so easily commandeer his attention. "I had better never, ever, hear you use your medical terminology to depersonalize your _own_ child. You can do that with every other _fetus_ on the planet, but not your own. And not in front of me."

House didn't answer. Plenty of fantastic comments flew through his mind. Witty remarks, irritated comebacks. But it was Celia, and he respected the opinionated old woman, he also seemed to fear her, just a bit. She turned to Cuddy, "Now, my dear, you wouldn't deny the existence of your own child, would ya?"

There was a slight glint in Cuddy's eyes and Celia nodded. "I thought not. When's the baby due?"

Cuddy shrugged. "So you just found out?" Celia asked.

Cuddy looked at House over Celia's shoulder. He shrugged and nodded, accepting defeat. Cuddy hesitated, and said, quietly, "Yea."

"Awwwww, congratulations, honey. I'm sorry I didn't realize this was some big secret or I wouldn't have come in here discussing it with everyone."

"It's really early on," Cuddy said, "If things go wrong…"

"Things won't go wrong. Trust, me I know about this stuff. I've been around a long time. Face it, I'm the only one who's not a doctor in this room, and I'm the only one figured it out, well, except for you two. I can _tell_ when things'll go wrong, and when they won't. You have nothing to worry about."

Celia walked toward the door and House stood up and said, loudly, "Nobody leaves this room."

Celia turned back, with a somewhat defiant look on her face and House said, "This room, contains the only people who know the results of this blood work."

"And the lab," Chase interjected.

"No," Cuddy said, "Pseudonym. It's just you guys."

"Now," House said, "there are tons of threats I could offer…but I'm going to…" he swallowed, "I'm going to…_ask_…that you not tell anyone. Not Ann, not Melanie, no one at the bar…no one. The more people who know, the more people who can blab. We don't want this news all over two hospitals by tomorrow morning. Just…let us get another month or two into this…"

Everyone agreed and began to filter out of the room, except for Chase, who sat behind patiently. "They all didn't realize what a fantastic bargaining chip they had," he said with a smile.

House sat back in his chair and smirked. "I've always liked you," he responded, with a quick chuckle, "What do you want?"

"I want to head the team here, on my own. You guys can take the team at Penn. It's closer to home for you. We can collaborate when we need to, but we could see more cases, and I could finally start to establish my own name. You guys won't work forever, and I don't want to get relegated back to some surgery position if you decide to leave again. You could keep an eye on me for a while, but I know when to ask for help. I can have my own…branch office. What do you think?"

House and Cuddy exchanged glances, which Chase tried, and failed, to read. "Or I could cut out your tongue to guarantee your silence," House joked.

"I could still write…" Chase threatened.

"I guess I'd also have to cut off your hands."

"I'd learn to learn to type with my toes."

"Might impact your skills as a surgeon just a bit." House flashed a tiny smirk, "We'll try a few cases like that. See how it goes?"

"Agreed!" Chase said, happily, before he walked over to Cuddy and dipped down to kiss her cheek. "Congratulations. I'm honestly happy for you."

* * *

><p>In the next office, Kate followed Celia, "So…how'd you know?" Kate asked.<p>

"We always had our ways of knowing, back in the day. Before blood work, and peeing on sticks, the older women always knew."

"I'd love to know, tell me" Kate asked.

"Alright, it's an old family secret…You can't tell anyone."

"Sure," Kate nodded, leaning in to learn Celia's secret.

"I overheard them talking," Celia said with a grin.

Kate laughed. "Really? So then…how do you know that everything's fine?"

"I don't. But worrying never did anybody a damn bit of good," Celia said.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, House was sitting at his desk while Cuddy was checking on the progress of the patient. Medford came through the door with a booming presence. "You put five holes in my niece's bedroom walls! Was that entirely necessary?"<p>

"You put the nation's finest diagnostic team on a case that any allergist could have probably handled. Was that entirely necessary?" House retorted.

"I had my assistant do some research, when the cold wouldn't go away. She said it could be leukemia, lymphoma some kind of chronic…_something_…I'm not a doctor, but I know leukemia's bad. The general practitioner said she had a cold, and he was wrong. I knew it wasn't just a cold, I was right about that."

"Well, I knew she had mold growing _somewhere_, but I wasn't sure exactly where it was at…so I had to put a couple of holes in the wall to find it. But, I knew I was right about the mold. We both went a little overboard to prove something that we knew was true," House said as he leaned back in his chair and spun his reading glasses between his fingers.

Medford smiled and sat down on the chair in front of House's desk. "I like you," Medford said thoughtfully. "I really do. I was given all kinds of warnings about you, but, you know your stuff and I think you're entitled to be a smartass when you have the skills to back it up. The same way that I can have the nation's best diagnostic team diagnose my niece's allergies. May have been overkill…but I have the money to afford it. Do you have kids?"

"Umm…I'm trying have a three year old, and I have one who's minus seven months…approximately."

"Probably the most interesting response to that question I've ever heard. I didn't have children, but having my niece and nephew around has changed my perspective on a great many things. So I'm guessing your answer means that you and your…wife…are expecting?"

"Yea," House nodded. "We weren't telling anyone, but I figured you probably weren't really going to spend much of your time talking about me."

Medford smirked, "I'll keep it between us. How do you _try_ to have a three year old? Are you involved in a custody battle with an ex? I didn't see anything about children in the file my assistant put together."

"The same assistant who thought your niece's allergy was leukemia?"

Medford responded with a wordless smile.

"We're trying to adopt," House answered.

"You have a record…domestic violence, I'm assuming that complicates matters."

"Yea," House nodded.

"What are you trying to do about it?"

"I have a lawyer. He's doing…_something_…"

"Gotta watch lawyers," Medford answered, as if his statement came from years of experience. "Good luck," Medford said as he stood up, "thanks for taking care of my niece, and poking large holes in her wall."

"Anytime," House replied.

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><p>After dinner with Ava and Nadia, House and Cuddy returned home. Cuddy was tired and ready for bed. "You mind if go out for a while?" House asked.<p>

"No, that's fine. I'm sorry I'm so tired."

"No big deal. If Ava needs us, just call, I'll go get her, OK?" he offered.

"Sure," Cuddy smiled, kissing him twice before he headed out the door.

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><p>Kate walked through her house after work, carrying boxes so she could continue packing, and wandered back to her room. When she clicked on her light she found House, hands folded behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles, resting in the center of her bed. Kate didn't even seem fazed by his presence. "You guys fighting?" she asked.<p>

"No. Who would fight with me, I'm always right," he responded.

"Wow, don't quite remember that part. Did you get smarter since you moved out?" she teased.

She sat at the end of the bed facing him, "What's up?"

"I can't visit my friend?"

"Anytime, you know that, but, you're here now, at night, napping in my bed. Which means something's going on. I'm pretty sure you'd rather be at home, sleeping next to your wife."

"She's tired, so I thought I'd come out and play. When are you moving into Mel's?"

"Next week."

"Good, then it's boys' night," House declared.

"You want a drink? Beer? Scotch?"

"No, I guess it's more like…boys' sober evening…I'll have to head home at a decent hour and make sure Cuddy's wide ass is still waiting for me."

"No wonder she's so into you…the poetry."

"It's true. Chicks love poetry," House said with a definitive nod.

"Is Ava OK?" Kate asked with concern.

"I don't know how to be a father," he said bluntly, but softly.

"You are already acting like one," she said. "You are great with Ava. Is that what's bothering you?"

"Would you pick me as the father for your kid? Obvious dirty jokes aside for the moment."

"Obvious dirty jokes aside…yea, of course I would."

"Which is easy to say when it's purely hypothetical, because you don't have to worry about it," he said.

"Lisa chose you. She's smart, maternal, very caring. Arguably a better judge in character than me. And she…chose you."

"The father part…was coincidental. She wanted to be with me, for…some reason…" he trailed off.

"I'm thinking maybe love…I don't think the father part was all that coincidental. She knows what it takes to raise a child. She wouldn't agree to have one with a man that she didn't think could be there for her and her family."

"Maybe she's just really deluded."

"When Lisa needed you…when she showed up, completely unannounced and asked for your help…what did you do?"

"I don't know."

"OK. What about when Ava showed up. What did you do to help her?" Kate asked.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing…special. What answer are you looking for?" he said with frustration.

"Exactly. Nothing special. You don't have to read _how to be a good dad_ books and employ the strategies step by step…just be available...there…being you."

"It's more complicated than that."

"It's not. The same rules apply to this as to anything else. Try not to say anything too stupid. Be there when they need you. Respond to the needs as best as you know how. When you're worried, call a friend. Share this shit with Lisa, because she's your partner. You guys are on the same side. Play music with them. Give them long winded metaphors. Let yourself…fall in love with them."

"If something happens to me…"

Kate took a deep breath and sighed, "_Nothing_ is gonna happen to you."

"I'm a bit old to begin family life."

"How old is your mom?" Kate asked.

"Really old."

"So you could live to be 95…maybe see your children have children…"

"Maybe we've never discussed the details of the ways I've spent most of my adult life."

"I'm just saying, it's possible."

"If something happens to me. You'll help Cuddy? Make sure she's not raising Ava and-or…whoever…alone?"

"Of course I'd help her."

"Maybe…make sure she isn't lonely."

"If she couldn't get over you after everything that happened between the two of you before…she's not going to if something happens to you down the line. I'll help her with kids, with her home, anything she needs…but I'm not going to convince her to hop in bed with some guy that she'll never care about. But, I can promise, she won't have to handle everything alone."

"That's all I needed…Nighty-night!" He said as he rose from her bed and was standing in her doorway.

"Wait, you're leaving already?"

"Cuddy's at home…probably half naked, moaning my name with that sexy little whisper in her sleep…You think I want to be here with _you_?" House scoffed, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes.

"Feels good to be loved!" Kate retorted.

"Doesn't it!"

Kate watched him disappear from her room, and heard him shout back "Good night!" before the door shut and her home was quiet again.


	99. Chapter 99

**A/N**-_thanks to all readers and the reviewers: CaptainK8, suzmum, Josam, SissiCuddles, lenasti16, JLCH, housebound, IHeartHouseCuddy, Alltheloveintheworld, partypantscuddy, OldSFfan, LapizSilkwood, Zaydasky, IWuvHouse, Mon Fogel, bonnieyy77, Bakerstreet Blues, jkarr, janetallthetime, dmarchl, KiwiClare, ClareBear14, LoveMyHouse, huddy4ever, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl and Jane Q. Doe._

_I'll probably do the same thing that I have the last few weeks, I may not be able to update during the weekend, (I'll see if I can get something out there on Saturday) but I'll definitely update Monday. I have my flaming hula dancer training, and that just tuckers me out something awful :)  
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**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

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><p>When Cuddy woke in the morning, she had a feeling she could only describe as optimistic. This feeling was still foreign, but pleasant. House was sleeping beside her. She never heard him come home the night before, but enjoyed the fact that she didn't have to sit up, worrying whether or not he'd come home, or worrying that he'd cheat on her. The sense of trust between them was unequivocal. She found herself bold enough to begin to imagine that they might be able to have, and keep, this new life they'd created. For the first time in all of her struggles with childbearing, she allowed herself to really imagine, to really see, the child that could result from the pregnancy, and something felt very right.<p>

She was overcome with her feelings for him, by the desire to begin his day with pleasure instead of pain. Kissing his palm, placing soft kisses along his forearm, and lightly tickling along his hip with her fingers, she felt his breath deepen, and it brought a smile to her face. She could tell he was just beginning to wake up, she was taking her time, enjoying the quiet hours of the morning before the insanity of the day began, when her phone cruelly interrupted the moment.

She begrudgingly rolled away from him, reached for the phone and looked at the display. They each kept their phones on at all times, particularly overnight, in case Ava needed them, but that morning, it was Becker from Penn. "Cuddy," she answered the phone.

"Morning, Doctor. You're needed down here at Penn today. I wanted to get to you guys early," the assistant dean ordered.

"Sure," Cuddy answered. "What's the case?"

"There's an entire stack of them, come pick one," Becker answered.

"You need us there, but you don't have a specific case in mind?" Cuddy asked with frustration.

"Well, you guys have been up in Plainsboro a great deal lately, we need you here too, that's part of the deal."

"The last case was Medford. Talk to him about that."

"Well, it would be great if you'd give us the same attention that you're giving your old hospital. We have plenty of cases here."

"OK," Cuddy mumbled.

"Oh, and make sure House gets that paperwork in from the last case here, if you can't keep after him for it, can't you just…finish it up on your own so it gets done."

Cuddy didn't even have the opportunity to respond when Becker hung up.

House said, groggily, "Everything alright?"

"Yea, they want us at Penn today."

Cuddy contacted the team and asked them to gather at Penn for a meeting before Chase began running the cases in Princeton. By the time she was done, House was on the phone, arguing with another doctor, who was upset with his interference on a case, clearly a pissing contest, since House succeeded in correctly diagnosing the patient when he overheard two doctors talking in the cafeteria.

By the time she got out of the shower, her hopeful mood had soured. When they got into the office, she was beginning to feel miserable. They rescheduled her ultrasound with a doctor at Penn, since they'd be unable to make the appointment originally scheduled at PPTH.

They went for the ultrasound, finding an unfamiliar doctor, standing next to an unfamiliar ultrasound tech, in an unfamiliar place. "Things look really good," the doctor said flatly. "I don't see any cause for concern. You are actually at eight weeks. Hormone levels are perfect, at this point, it's all good news. "

"Great," Cuddy said smiling, feeling relief wash over her. House calmly and objectively did his own evaluation of everything he saw. She understood that he only had a few moments to evaluate the situation before the window of opportunity would close, and, unless there was a problem, it was unlikely there would be another ultrasound for several weeks. She wasn't even sure if he realized that he had a hand comfortingly over hers, and that while he was making judgments and determinations, his thumb methodically traced her wrist. She found the involuntary contact indicative of the very natural way their concern for each other had developed. After a few moments, he looked at Cuddy, she was waiting for his opinion. "Looks good," he told her.

"My advice to you," the obstetrician said, "Is to avoid over-stressing, eat right, you can exercise, but nothing…"

House's phone interrupted the doctor. He looked down at the display, another doctor at Penn, since it had nothing to do with Ava, he silenced the phone before shoving it back in his pocket. "As I was saying," the obstetrician continued, "exercise, stuff you normally do already, obviously nothing with any…"

Cuddy's phone began to ring from her pile of personal items in the corner. She nodded at House and he went to check the display, it was Becker. He silenced the phone and returned to her side. The obstetrician was clearly unhappy with the interruptions. She handed them a small printout from the ultrasound and they went back to work.

When they returned to their office, Cuddy felt as if everyone was watching her. She guessed it was probably all in her head, but the feeling was there nonetheless. She desperately wanted to keep the early months of her pregnancy quiet, knowing that if she lost the baby, she or House would have to have a painful discussion with all of them. She felt like everyone was watching her for subtle signs of change, or warnings of impending miscarriage, pairs of diagnostically trained eyes evaluating her.

When her phone rang later in the morning, it was Nadia. "Is there someone who can watch Ava for a few hours tonight?" Nadia asked.

"I can," Cuddy answered happily.

"I need _you_, I mean someone else."

"House can I'm sure," Cuddy answered.

"I need him too."

"Well, I can check…what's going on?"

"We are meeting with a judge at four, Lisa…because I believe I can get you…and House…temporarily custody of a little girl who desperately wants to go home with you."

"What?" Cuddy asked loudly, her facial expression undeniably ecstatic. House jerked, shocked by the volume that came from the woman.

"I don't have much time, but I'll meet you at your place, please have a sitter there. We can't bring Ava along for this."

"Thank you!" Cuddy said, eyes tearing up with sheer joy.

"It's temporary, but it's a good step in the right direction!" Nadia said before hanging up.

Cuddy was filled with excitement as they hung up, eager to tell House what had transpired, and she noticed a room full of people, watching them. House was staring at her over his laptop. Cuddy paused for a moment, in thought, when Becker bound through the door, "I've been trying to reach you both, I wasn't sure if you were even here."

Cuddy looked at House, and calmly shut the lid of her laptop. Their eyes met, and neither responded to Becker. He could see in Cuddy's eyes the tension, the excitement, the frustration, the happiness, the fear, the overwhelming sense that everything was flying at them at one-hundred miles an hour, and they didn't even have a chance to appreciate some of the things that were happening.

"I'm speaking to you," Becker announced. "Dr. Cuddy, did you even bother telling Dr. House he owes me paperwork? I'd expect you to understand the importance of such things, given your job history," she said to Cuddy. "Maybe he'll actually listen to you."

Cuddy stood and leaned over House's desk, resting the tips of her fingers on the top part of his laptop. No one else would notice the subtle nod he gave her, she wasn't even sure if his head _actually_ moved, but she felt his consent. She pressed downward with her fingertips, slowly, steadily closing the lid to his computer as well. The day was already an emotional roller coaster that would cause a person who wasn't flooded with hormones to break down, but Cuddy was outwardly calm in appearance. Very calm. Too calm. While looking directly into Cuddy's eyes, he said to Becker, "We're gonna need a little time off."

"How much time off do you _need_?" Becker asked, her voice frustrated and testy.

"A few months…give or take," he said, a smirk playing on his lips more fully when Cuddy nodded.

"This is ridiculous!" Becker said.

"We began this as an independent team that was supposed to be able to select their own cases, consulting when _we_ wanted to," Cuddy said, wondering when their control on their careers had slipped from their grasp.

"Besides, we have a team, they'll handle stuff for a while," he said, as he stood, grabbed his cane, and took two long steps closer to Cuddy. "Right guys?"

There was a disorganized chorus of agreement in answer to his question. House looked at Chase, "You wanted to give it a try, you ready?"

"Yea," Chase nodded, stunned but pleased.

Cuddy held out at her hand, a simple sign of solidarity reminiscent of her open declaration of their love at PPTH, distant months ago, when she freely acknowledged that they were a couple without shame or hesitation. He, almost cheerily, took her extended hand and they walked out into the hall. "I was hoping to talk you into a few months off…" he said as they walked.

They were walking down the hall toward the elevators, when House gestured to the door to the stairwell. They stepped into the echo-prone, but perennially empty, hospital location. House sat on one of the stairs, leaving space for her next to him. She stood in front of him, "We have a meeting with a judge today, Nadia thinks we will be granted temporary custody."

House's grin wasn't subtle or monitored, but completely genuine and open. "That was what I wanted to tell you when Becker came in. House…I had this…great news, and watched it fizzle under what someone else needed," she said, sitting down on the cold step next to him. "We're…being pushed back into the places where we were," she continued. "They want me to be the administrator, you to be the brilliant doctor, both of us living for work, and working 60-plus hours a week. I can see our lives, slipping back to where they were like we're sliding down this huge hill to the inevitable. I don't want to go back there. I don't want to lose the happiness we've found. We've been…waiting for this…for something to move forward with Ava, and I get to hear some crazy woman screaming at me that I'm supposed to make sure you do your fucking paperwork? I've said all along, I wasn't going to be your boss…and they're persistently nudging me in that direction, and I'm…actually letting them."

House nodded, allowing her to continue to vent her frustration.

"This morning…she called me at 6:30…over paperwork and some…idiotic turf war. We have to rein this stuff back in, or we're going to lose. We have this chance…this opportunity, that neither of us expected would happen, and it's going to pass us by. I'm going to get stressed, and I'm going to miscarry…and then…I'll feel responsible for that. Ava…needs us to actually be around. We might finally get her…and then what happens? Will we even have time to spend with her? If we're going to have another baby, we have to do our best to make sure Ava feels settled and secure with us even _before_ the baby's born."

She took his hand and pulled it to her cheek. "What about…you and I maintaining what we have? We're going to get lost in this shuffle, and I don't want to nag you about paperwork and protocol. That's exactly what we tried to _avoid_ with this entire arrangement. We're standing in one of those places…where we can make decisions that will impact everything, and I don't want to ruin this. I don't want to ruin this chance…_again_. We promised we were going to enjoy life together."

"This," House said eventually, "is the right decision. I can live with not working for a few months," he joked, before becoming serious again. "I know we need to keep stress low. Spend some time with Ava, help her get settled in with us. It makes sense."

Cuddy nodded, relieved that he was in-step with the change she initiated. "I was so…nervous and excited for that ultrasound. And I know, you think this is all…stupid, but…you'll have to allow me a little illogical maternal excitement…"

"By all means," he answered with a grin.

"That was our very first glimpse at our child, or…future child. And yea, I know there's not much to him or her right now…but…it was our very first peek at our kid! Our first view, was set to the lovely soundtrack of Becker calling us about paperwork…and you know what? Eight weeks…is longer than I've made it before. I didn't even get a chance to be excited about that before we had to move on to the next thing."

"Really?" he asked, feeling odd that he didn't know that detail about her previous pregnancies.

"Yup," she said with a deep breath. "Too bad I didn't get to just enjoy the moment with you."

House stood and smirked. "Let's go. We have a lot of time to kill before we have to go meet Nadia."

Cuddy thought they were leaving, when he directed her into an open imaging room. "No…" she said, when she saw where they were, "I'm thinking things like transvaginal ultrasound will be the beginning of the end of the romance," she said with a chuckle.

"Eight weeks along, you haven't peed lately, you have no body fat, and we aren't doing this diagnostically, we just want to say 'hi'. I think we can go external. We can at least try," he offered.

She thought for a second, laughing at his suggestion, and walking over in front of him, "Why the hell not?" she shrugged.

He lifted her onto the table with a little smile, and then left her side to lock the door while she exposed her lower abdomen. He turned the ultrasound machine toward them and greased her belly. There was a moment where he worried about what would happen if they couldn't find the heartbeat, if the moment they were about to share would all go terribly wrong and her memory would record that he was the one to discover their embryo was lost.

He took a breath and placed the transducer against her belly, adjusting the controls of the machine with this other hand. He moved along her skin, finding the spot fairly quickly and stopping to adjust the controls. "There you go," he said pointing at the screen, where they could see the bounce-flick of an extraordinarily small heart.

"We did that," she said, her eyes teary, and hope restored, finally feeling that moment she craved, the connection with her pregnancy that she wanted to feel earlier in the day.

"We did. Damn that was fun too, wasn't it?"

She laughed suddenly, wiping tears from her cheeks and resting a hand against her chest, responding to the shift from tension and awe, and appreciating his humor. "Definitely."

He adjusted another setting that translated the visual blip of the heart to an actual sound. She closed her eyes and listened to the rapid, computer-generated, lub-dub produced. He moved his hand from the machine and rested it along her waist, still using the other to hold the transducer in place. As she saw, again, that things looked good, that development was on track, that a small heart had begun to beat, she felt a sense of real joy.

"Truth?" she asked.

"Always."

"Do you think this will work?"

"I _think_ so, I can't…give you a definitive but…so far we're good."

He helped her wipe the jelly from her stomach and cleaned up the machine. "I miss it...just being us," she said, while she watched him helping her recompose herself, in one of those moments where she could see the depth of caring in the way he interacted with her.

He stopped for a second and said, "Tonight, we're going to go sign some papers, and I hope, we're going to take our kid home, and then tomorrow, it's just the three of us."


	100. Chapter 100

**A/N**-_100 Chapters…holy crap…umm…I have no sense of moderation at all. As always thank to all of you who read this, and for all of you who take the time and to share what you're thinking: JLCH, IHeartHouseCuddy, RedTulipAna, Boo's House, lenasti16, Bakerstreet Blues, Josam, dmarchl, ClareBear14, KiwiClare, Alex, TheHouseWitch, Suzieqlondon, Abby, HuddyGirl, A, IWuvHouse, and SissiCuddles._

**Disclaimer**_-I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter includes adult content. If you don't want to read it, skip to the first line break.  
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><p>After the ultrasound, the pair went home so Cuddy could nap before their meeting with the judge that would hopefully lead to a custody arrangement. While she slept, House called Chase to assure him that they would be available, as needed, by telephone in a consultative capacity.<p>

When Cuddy woke from a short nap, she went looking for House, wearing only one of his long tee shirts. She found him sitting on the edge of the recliner playing his guitar softly, so he wouldn't wake her. Stepping over the arm of the recliner, she slid between him and the seat back, and began lazily rubbing his shoulders and back. He sat back, pressing her gently between him and the chair. He turned his head and kissed her, pulling her lower lip between his lips briefly while playing, and then returned to picking notes.

"When did you get new cologne?" she asked.

"Cologne? I dunno. Never...it's been a long time," he went back to playing, leaning only slightly back onto her shoulder. "Why?" he asked, turning to face her while still playing.

"Whichever one you're wearing smells amazing…I really like it, that's all."

He looked down at his torso, as if the answer was written somewhere on him, then looked back at her, "It's soap, and…deodorant. And I've used the same brands of those items…for a _really_ long time. It's either your hormones, or you're thinking about how unbelievably sexy and I am…and you're imagining a new cologne to try to justify your unbelievably powerful attraction to me."

She ignored his chuckling while she pushed him forward, and sat up on her knees, pulling him back against her again, settling her chin on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him. He started playing something for her, just a series of notes that lived in his head, but the tune was beautiful and light, and she enjoyed that those notes, unmistakably _not_ somber, were the sounds floating through his mind. She slid her hands, under the guitar, on one thigh and one hip, and he pushed the guitar away from his body a few inches so her hands could move more freely. Her fingers danced around him in time with the music, with the same pace and the same softness or heaviness of touch accordingly.

When her hand swept up his inner thigh sliding closer and closer to where he wanted her to move, he turned and whispered, "Damn you make me feel good."

She did make him feel _good_. At that moment it was possible that her touch could turn overtly sexual, or it could become platonic, where she'd just continue touching him, leaning into him, running her hands along his body, and although sex sounded like more fun than the alternative, it was true that contact of any sort from her felt good enough to crave in its absence.

She traced his ear with her nose and whispered, "I love making you feel good. You know this morning…this is exactly how I wanted us to start our day. I was actually hoping you wouldn't wake up until I was sucking you off," she felt his whole body twitch, just a bit at the mere suggestion. "And then Becker called…"

He shivered, this time in simulated revulsion, "I wasn't aware that I could hate her more than I did ten minutes ago, but congratulations…now I hate her even more."

She pulled him closely against her, one hand spread open across the center of his chest, her breasts pressed tightly into his back, and her other hand reached inside the loose pajama pants he was wearing, still following the flow of the music. He lifted off the chair, just a bit, trying to urge her to give him more contact than the light, soft, flirtatious touches she was offering.

He started to play a more complex song, fingers moving quickly across the frets, in a more spirited and alert tune. Following the song's lead, she gave him more of the contact he was seeking. After a short while, it was becoming difficult to play and enjoy her attention, but as soon as he'd back off the complexity and pace of the song, she'd follow suit. "Are you going to do this to me indefinitely?" he asked.

"I like playing you," she giggled, "you're my favorite instrument."

He kissed her over his shoulder, while still picking at notes, although she didn't notice if the combinations were still melodic, or if they became scattered and random, and then he slammed his fingers downward along the strings, loudly and frenetically strumming out the strangest cacophony of sounds. She jumped, his lips still right in front of hers. "I'm teaching you a new song…called, _knock it off and do me, _it's a classic, I'll teach you the rest in a second,_"_ he said through a smile against her lips, pulling her out from behind him after setting his guitar on the floor next to the chair.

She was straddling his lap on the chair, and before kissing him again, she whispered, "You are a very talented musician."

"So are you," he replied, a bit hazily.

He pulled her arms around him and stood up, carrying her two steps to the sofa and placing her down on the cushions. He slid his hands over her hips to find the waistband of her panties, and noticed she wasn't wearing anything except his shirt. "Did you intend to seduce me from the beginning?" he asked, accusing playfully, while moving into position over her. "I'm feeling used!"

She bit her lip and nodded, as he ran his fingers along her folds, finding her already slick and hot beneath his fingertips. He toyed with her for a few moments, glancing his fingers along her entrance without allowing her the luxury of penetration. His fingers slid and slipped around, aided by her arousal, while he appreciated exactly how turned on she was. He removed his fingers from her, and poised himself at her entrance, teasing her with his own arousal, before finally surrendering to her needy requests, and pushing into her fully. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against him with a subtle, almost silent gasp. Once she was ready to move she whispered, "We can stop, if you don't feel like being used anymore…"

"I forgot that _used _is my favorite feeling," he answered.

He gripped onto her hips, dominating their pace, lifting her to him, and pulling her slowly, but firmly, closer until they were completely united. Then, using his hands to keep her completely against him, he rocked her hips against him slowly, returning her earlier tease until she pleaded for release.

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><p>At three-thirty, Kate arrived to babysit just as Ava and Nadia showed up. Ava was disappointed to see House and Cuddy leaving, but Kate was able to distract her with an 'airplane ride' through the living room. Nadia, House and Cuddy all rode down together in Nadia's car, and walked in to meet the judge. Just before they entered the office, Nadia looked at them and said, "I have no idea where you found that new lawyer, but…wise decision. She's tough."<p>

"She? George Roberts is our lawyer," Cuddy said, shaking her head. "You must have the wrong case," she finished, feeling disappointed that their hopes were probably raised for nothing.

"No, it's your lawyer, I have the preliminary paperwork. It lists both of your names," Nadia said. "You didn't hire her?"

They walked through the door, and standing in the corner, cool and professional, was a woman in a neat and tidy little business suit. She had short cropped grey hair, likely in her sixties, with small reading glasses perched at the end of her nose while she read a file. She smiled briefly and extended a hand. "Winchell," she said, offering only her last name and a swift, curt handshake. "You are Gregory House?"

"Yup. When did we hire you?" he asked.

"Sign here," she said, pointing at a document that was face up on the desk.

House looked at her, then briefly down at the document, and then back at her. "What is this?"

"Application for governor's pardon. Sign it."

"What about the expungement?" House asked. "We already started an expungement with our lawyer."

"You want to wait another year and half before the paperwork can even get started? Your lawyer's inept. Any decent lawyer would know, the expungement board will _never_ grant your application," she laughed a slow, almost devious laugh.

"They won't?" he asked.

"No way in hell."

"Oh," he said, disappointed and confused. "So…what makes you think I deserve a pardon?"

"I don't think you do," she answered, "Or rather…I don't care whether or not you do."

"OK, let me clarify," he added, "What makes you think I'll _receive_ a pardon."

Winchell laughed, "You'll get it. Sign the damn papers."

House picked up the pen left there for him to use, and scratched his name in all of the notated spaces. When he was finished, the door opened, and a woman in a prison jump suit was brought in by two correctional officers. She was directed to a seat in front of the judge's desk. Winchell approached the prisoner, and placed papers down in front of her sign, which she did wordlessly. "You understand," Winchell said, "The nature of a voluntary termination of parental rights. Once you sign this, you will be surrendering all of your rights to your…"

"I know what it means," the woman muttered. "It means no support, no neglect charges, we've been through this."

The look of the prison garb alone brought back a flood of unpleasant memories for House, but after seeing her for only a moment, the resemblance between the woman and the little girl waiting at home was clear. Ava's biological mother sat before them. They initially believed that she was an innocent bystander to a surprise act of violence by her boyfriend, but looking at her in the office, remembering that Ava never once inquired about her mother, they wondered how innocent she could be.

House was initially fascinated by the woman, trying to learn her story. There were tell-tale signs of drug use, the woman's eyes were sunken and she was sickly looking. She had deep lines etched in her face, and her skin was ashen, although she was probably still in her twenties. She saw him looking at her, and she grumbled, "Do you fucking need something?"

He sat in the chair near hers, resting an elbow on the armrest, and his chin in his hand. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her, realizing that he made some terrible decisions at certain times in his life that he later regretted.

"What?" she asked gruffly.

"Sign over the rights to your daughter, are you sure that's what you want to do?" he asked.

"What...you don't want her either?" she asked, not hatefully, or sorrowfully, just calmly and without emotional weight.

He shook his head, "No…we want her. We've been trying to get custody of her."

"Great, it's yours," the woman said, still without emotion. "Anything else you need?" she asked the lawyer.

As happy as House and Cuddy were to be getting custody, it was painful knowing exactly where Ava came from. This woman had no emotional ties to the child. There were people who became more emotional when signing over the deed to their car. The woman wasn't a loving mother, but neither was she hateful and full of rage. She was…nothingness. House wondered, in some ways if that was worse. Then he felt really angry at the injustice of everything. That he and Cuddy had fought and pleaded for the child, and to this person, that innocent girl meant absolutely nothing.

The judge came into the office and looked over the paperwork. She explained to Ava's biological mother the nature of proceedings, but the woman stared off in the distance. "You're reducing my charges, right?" she asked the judge. "Dropping the neglect and abandonment shit?"

Cuddy sat next to House, subtly resting her hand on his arm because he looked like he was mentally tumbling downward while sitting motionless in his chair.

The judge nodded at the woman, "I believe that's all part of the agreement, Ms. Smith."

"Then we're fine, can I go back to jail now?" she asked, sounding irritated, as if whatever was waiting for her back in her cell was more interesting than the future of her own child.

"In a minute," the judge answered, nodding at the clerk who was seated nearby. "Let it be noted that today…"

House blanked out while the judge went through the formalities of granting temporary custody of the child to them. The next thing he heard, was the sound of Ava's biological mother, being chauffeured out of the room. The judge waited until the clerk was gone from the office, and looked at House, "You must have good friends. I've seen your record, you hurt that kid, and I'll destroy you."

House nodded, strangely not at all offended, and somewhat comforted that someone seemed to care about what happened to Ava. "Good luck folks," the judge said, looking somewhat suspiciously over Cuddy as well before leaving.

Nadia shook their hands. "I'm still in charge of her case, but, she stays with you. I'll talk to your lawyer about what this means for the adoption."

"I'm handling the adoption now," Winchell said. "Call your lawyer, don't pay him any more money."

"So…the pardon?" House asked, "How long will that take?"

"That'll take a little longer than this did," the new lawyer answered.

"I'm assuming there are a number of applications before mine?"

Winchell smiled, so widely that it was almost creepy, "There are 327 pardon applications waiting in Governor Paxton's queue ahead of yours."

"OK," House said, happy to at least have temporary custody.

"_Those_ will take years. He'll review _yours_ within the next six months."

"Who hired you?" House asked.

"Technically...you did. Yesterday. Have a great day, I'll be in touch," she said, giving them a card with her phone number on it.

She walked out and House looked at Cuddy and said, "Why would Medford send one of his own people down to take care of this?"

"Who's Medford?" Nadia asked.

"A guy we…kinda work for…" Cuddy answered.

"Well, I've never heard of _anything_ moving quickly in family court. I was notified very early this morning that Ava's mother wanted to terminate her rights, and that she had 'chosen' the two of you. Which is interesting, given that you didn't appear to be old friends."

* * *

><p>The whole drive home, House and Cuddy couldn't wait to see the child that they now had some legal claim to, a child that wouldn't have to go somewhere else at the end of the day. House had the beginnings of a true hatred for anyone who could regard their own child with such total indifference, but couldn't help but appreciate that at least she was willing to let the child go. Part of him worried that somehow Ava would sense the change, perhaps she'd know that her mother so freely turned her over to strangers she never met. He started to wonder how she'd react, one day, when the truth of her biological beginnings came to light. He wanted to make sure the mysteries surrounding her beginnings were not dark lingering secrets like his own, but had no idea how to tell her the truth.<p>

When they entered the elevator at home, they could hear music playing with increasing clarity as they reached their floor. They got off of the elevator, opened their door, and found Kate and Ava…rockin'. There was no other word for it. The music was loud, but not so loud that it would frighten Ava. Joan Jett's voice poured from the speakers in the living room, as Kate played air guitar, and she slid across the hardwood floor on her knees until she ran into the area rug.

Ava was laughing almost hysterically. She looked like a miniature version of an adult, her hands resting on her thighs, bent at the waist, her eyes shimmering with tears from laughing so hard for so long. Her soft blond curls were mussed up and scattered all around her head. Ava wore Kate's black bracelets, but she had them pulled up around her upper arms, and over her shoulders, so they wouldn't fall off. When Ava stood upright, jumping around to the music, they saw the child, who was wearing purple overalls with hearts on them when Nadia originally brought her over, with a sloppy anarchy sign drawn on her tiny white tee shirt. Cuddy snapped a picture of the child with her phone before waving to get Ava's attention.

Ava saw Cuddy waving, and tugged Kate's sleeve and pointed. Kate clicked the music off with the remote and Ava said, "Oh, hi!" and waved. "Just…dancing."

"I see that," Cuddy said, smiling as she walked toward the girl and picked her up. "You have a second to talk?"

"Sure," Ava said, almost singing the word.

"House and I want you to stay here with us. Live here. Would that be OK?"

"I can sleep here?"

"Yea."

"And play here?"

"Yea, Sweetie."

"You guys want to stay here too?" Ava asked, a questioning look on her face.

"Yea," Cuddy nodded, grinning, "You, and House, and I...will all live here."

"Well…that's fun!" Ava exclaimed, hugging Cuddy, and then grinning over Cuddy's shoulder at House before reaching for him.


	101. Chapter 101

**A/N**-_thanks to everyone who reviewed since last time: partypantscuddy, housebound, KiwiClare, LoveMyHouse, JLCH, 6cbrilhante, newdayz, CaptainK8, lenasti16, IHeartHouseCuddy, Mon Fogel, ohwindot, Bakerstreet Blues, OldSFfan, jkarr, SissiCuddles, TheHouseWitch, Suzieqlondon, newsession, dmarchl, Josam, cantstopobsessing, IWuvHouse, ClareBear14, iridescentZEN, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, Jane Q. Doe, and bonnieyy77, and to everyone who continues to read._

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>Ava settled in at the new home with House and Cuddy. Over the next month, the two did little away from their place. There were a few visits with Kate or Wilson, and although Blythe House went home, she was not so subtly hinting at thoughts of relocation.<p>

Over that month, they had the piano that was at Cuddy's house moved to the new place. Ava loved the piano, and both of her new parents were awed by how much she learned in a very short time. Cuddy and House cooked, rested, and played with the child. Years later they would always look back at that time with fondness, the time spent with just them and Ava.

During a visit one afternoon, Ava approached Nadia with a doctor kit and a doll, and told Nadia to "Run a1c and IgA levels" because the baby "presented with nausea." After that, Nadia was more insistent that Ava should be in preschool, so the child would have contact with children her own age. Apart from that necessary contact with the outside world, it was as if they'd run away, but remained right in the middle of everything.

Cuddy's pregnancy seemed flawless. Every few days she'd expect trouble, and when it didn't come, she'd tuck her fears aside for another day. House noticed the small paunch forming around Cuddy's belly, the way her curves were ever so slightly more pronounced, but said little on the subject, as Cuddy fought tiredness, and occasionally her own hormonally driven concerns. He learned his lesson previously when he made a comment one afternoon. Ava was watching a cartoon with a reading pig and little red riding hood, and Cuddy was preparing supper. House walked past Cuddy in the kitchen, whispering into her ear, "I can't wait to get my hands on that fat ass tonight."

It was a comment he'd made so many times before, meant as a compliment in every way, but that afternoon, she stopped cold. She placed the knife on the counter calmly. "Why don't _you_ try being pregnant," she said, suddenly sounding irritated.

"What?" he asked with surprise.

"I'm just wondering how you'd do if _you_ were pregnant. If you were this tired all the time, and peeing all freakin' night. If you were watching your body slowly fall apart."

"Delivery would definitely be painful."

"Is this a joke to you?" she asked quietly, growing more irritated.

"Well, kind of… I like your ass, you know how much I like your ass…seriously. You _know_ it's a compliment. Why start being insulted by it now?"

"When I'm in labor is it going to be a big joke about how fat I've gotten, while you flirt with the nurses?"

"Why would I...suddenly start flirting with nurses? I didn't flirt with nurses before I had an insecure pregnant wife."

"Insecure pregnant wife?" she asked, still whispering loudly.

"Which part isn't true?" he asked. "I've been telling you that you have a fat ass forever…and you pick today to get offended by it."

She looked really angry, almost furious, and then…she looked really sad, all within the blink of an eye. She sniffled out words between sobs, and he only comprehended the words "ass," and "soooo fat."

Their entire argument was in hushed whispers, trying not to alert the child sitting several feet away, but the crying was harder to conceal. He was trying to calm her, and she was _trying_ to remain calm before Ava heard, but moments later, the tiny blond-haired head turned from the TV to the scene in the kitchen and took notice of the discussion.

Ava walked over swiftly, almost stomping up to them. She looked first at House and said, "You need a timeout?"

He tried not to laugh at the threat she'd no doubt heard at her preschool, but she looked more irritated when she noticed his amusement. Cuddy sat on her haunches to tell the girl she was fine. Once she was near Ava's eye level, Cuddy said, "I'm OK, sweetie," wiping the tears from her face.

Ava gave Cuddy a hug, and pulled away suddenly. She said to House, "Why you make Mommy cry?"

House and Cuddy stared at the girl for a few moments, shocked by the use of the word to refer to Cuddy.

"He didn't..._make_ me cry," Cuddy explained.

They looked at each other, then back to the girl and House said, "I wasn't trying to, sometimes I just…say dumb things."

As soon as Cuddy finished processing what was going on, she swept the little girl up into her arms and held her close. She looked at House over Ava's shoulder, mouthing, "Oh my god!" suddenly forgetting that she felt fat and self-conscious.

They sat on the sofa with her for a few minutes and Ava said simply, "You are my Mommy?"

They had decided since Ava arrived in their custody that they wouldn't force certain nomenclature on her, allowing her to select her own names for them.

Cuddy nodded, "If you want to call me that you can…I'd like it, but it's up to you."

* * *

><p>After Ava was asleep that night, House found Cuddy cleaning out cabinets in the kitchen. She had all of the contents of the lower cabinets spread out on the floor and she was half way under the sink. "You still pissed?" he asked, leaning against the countertop.<p>

"I wasn't _pissed_," she began. "OK, maybe I was a little pissed," she chuckled.

"I don't even understand when that whole conversation got out of hand. I…told you you're hot…and you got mad…"

"I feel…very unattractive," she confessed, moving back out of the cupboard and sitting on the floor. "I barely got started…and I'm already worried that you're going to decide this isn't worth it. Why…deal with a kid and a grouchy insane woman when you could be having commitment free sex with someone who actually looks good."

He smirked just a bit, "You…aren't insane...you're just...pregnant...and everything that comes with that. You _do_ actually look good, it's a herculean effort not to touch you constantly, but the reason I'm with you stopped being about looks a very long time ago. Don't get me wrong, the looks…the body…are a definite bonus..."

"I don't want you to go…" she said softly, shrugging and staring at her hands. "I know it's dumb to worry. And…if I tell you that…it will look like I don't trust you. And that's not the case… I don't know how to tell you that without making it sound like I don't trust you."

"You just did," he answered, nodding. "I'll always worry just a little that you'll go too. It isn't that I don't trust you…it's just because…you leaving would be…crushing. I know I don't want to get struck by lightning, I know it will hurt like hell if it happens…and it may even kill me, but it doesn't mean I actually think I'm going to get hit."

"I guess…" Cuddy began with thought, "I guess it's not completely irrational to want to keep something that…makes you happy."

"Not irrational at all," he said, watching as she used a little extra effort to get up off of the floor.

* * *

><p>A week later, Cuddy suddenly found herself in the midst of second trimester bliss. She'd occasionally touch her growing belly, becoming comfortable with the fact that expansion was inevitable. House did, tentatively, as well. At thirteen weeks, miscarriage was growing less and less likely. The morning she reached thirteen weeks, she called her mother to tell her about Ava, and Arlene insisted on meeting the child.<p>

Although Arlene was often insistent, Cuddy was somewhat excited with how readily her mother wanted to welcome the little girl into the family. House was less than thrilled when Cuddy told him they were going to Sunday dinner at Julia's, so Ava could meet her extended family. Cuddy smiled when he mumbled, "Why you gonna put my kid through that?"

While Ava napped that afternoon, Cuddy got ready to go. She tried on four different shirts, trying to find something that covered her well, without looking like she was trying to cover anything. House watched her try on the clothes. "Which one should I wear?" she asked him.

"Whichever one you want," he answered safely.

She looked at him, a bit disappointed. "Do I look that bad?" she asked, not emotionally charged, simply concerned. "You can tell me."

He looked at her and replied, "I'm not going to say anything and make you cry again. There is no safe answer to these types of questions."

"Is that why you've been so damn quiet about how I look? Because of one hormonally charged cry?"

"You look amazing, you always look amazing, but you know me, I'll say something stupid about a larger rack or fat asses, and you'll think I'm calling you fat and ugly. I…did this…I'm not going to make it worse."

"You think I look ugly too?" she asked, joking, as she watched him cover his face with his bent arm. "I'm teasing," she said. "You didn't 'do this' to me."

"I better have done this to you!" he said, acting offended.

"Yes…I meant, you didn't do this _alone_…"

"Believe me, I appreciated your contribution," he added. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and said, "Wear the purple one…the girls look…amazing…in that one."

He waited for a reaction, and when he didn't hear one, he peeked through his eyelids at her. She was shimmying the purple shirt down her torso with a flirtatious grin on her face before leaving the room to get Ava up to leave.

They arrived at Julia's, stretching out as a family in a whole new direction. As they walked up to the front door, House held Ava in one arm and had one hand on Cuddy's back. They both swallowed as they rang the bell. Julia answered, nodding them in, welcoming Ava warmly. When they walked into the living room, all eyes were on them. It was just Arlene and Julia's children and husband, but it felt like a large crowd. Ava hid her face against House for a moment, and slowly began looking around. Julia's youngest was eight, and approached them, excited at the prospect of a new, younger playmate. Ava looked at the girl, and quickly decided she liked her, wiggling her way down onto the floor. Julia led the children to the table to make pizzas and Ava seemed to easily fit in with her cousins. House and Cuddy stood within Ava's line of sight, and the girl would occasionally check to be certain they were still visible. Arlene approached them.

House gave the older woman a quick, almost friendly smile and she said, "What are _you _grinning at?"

He stammered a bit, "Nothing…"

"We didn't suddenly become _friends_, did we?"

After his conversation with his mother, he thought that Arlene might be different with him. He was surprised and pleased to see she was treating him exactly the way she always did. He shook his head, and in a sarcastic tone said, "Always great to see you, Arlene."

"Are you helping my daughter take care of that little girl or is she running around babysitting both of you?"

"He's great with her, Mom. Let's not start in on this," Cuddy said.

Julia's two dogs, big and clumsy, but friendly, came bounding in through the hall right near Cuddy. House moved in front of Cuddy, one arm stretched out in front of her. The move was small, unnoticed by anyone in the room except Cuddy's mother, and clearly protective. Arlene smirked. "You're probably proud of yourself, aren't you?" she said, looking at House.

House opened his mouth to counter, trying to decide if Arlene deduced their secret, and she interrupted before he could speak. "Now introduce me to my granddaughter," she added, pointing over to Ava at the table.

* * *

><p>Julia's kids enjoyed their time with Ava, and even the normally sullen Eddie was somewhat entranced by his new cousin. House was showing Ava how to play video games with Eddie when Julia approached her sister. "Are you feeling OK?"<p>

"Of course!" Cuddy said, "Ava's so well-behaved, she's such an easy kid to get along with."

"I'm sure," Julia whispered, adding with a smile, "but pregnancy can be tough, especially with a small child at home already."

Cuddy scoffed and deflected, but wasn't able to form a cohesive rebuttal.

"Lisa, come with me a minute," Julia said, leading Cuddy to one of the home's bedrooms.

Julia stood her sister in front of her, and turned her to the side. Julia gathered the lower portion of Cuddy's shirt and pulled it tight, pointing to the mirror on the wall. "You are beyond the point of hiding. If Mom didn't know before, she does now!"

Cuddy looked in the mirror, mouth slightly agape.

"You didn't realize how obvious you are, did you?" Julia asked with a giggle.

"I guess I didn't," Cuddy said, rubbing her hand across her belly.

"I can't believe it, Lisa. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You _hate_ House," Cuddy said, "in case you didn't figure it out, he's the father. I didn't feel like hearing a lecture about how you disapprove of my choices."

Julia smiled, "He's good with Ava. I'm happy for you, Lisa. You went about your life in a very different way, and I have questioned your sanity on _many_ steps as you've gone along, but…you seem good. I've never seen you look this good."

"I…_am_ good."

"You deserve it. You need to take it easy though. Don't overdo it. And good luck telling Mom."

Cuddy walked out to the living room, and found Ava and Eddie still playing video games, Ava, quite successfully, mashing buttons. House pointed at her, practically beaming with pride. "I'm going to tell Mom," Cuddy whispered.

The happy look evaporated from his face. "Today? You're kidding."

"I don't know when we'll see her next, and I have to do it in person. It's better to… get it over with. Julia noticed already. Why didn't you tell me how huge I'm getting?"

"Yet again," he nodded and whispered, "there is no good answer to the question you just asked. No matter what I say, you are either going to tell me that I'm calling you fat, or that I'm patronizing you."

Cuddy was going to argue, and then shrugged, realizing that he was probably right. Second trimester hormones were easier on her emotions.

Without another word, Cuddy walked over to her mother. "Mom…I am pregnant, 13 weeks. I understand that I am too old, and I already have a toddler at home. You have frequently disagreed with my parenting practices, and, yes, I may very well be insane. I know a lot of people have questioned my choice in spouses, but House treats me wonderfully. This is what I want…it's what he wants…this is good. I'm happy with the decisions I've made. Have I covered all of the potential criticisms…or do you have some to add?"

Cuddy waited patiently for her mother's long, disapproving rant. She knew her mother approved of House, and approved of her having kids, but she also knew that her mother always questioned all of her decisions, and that she'd probably question the prudence of having two young children at her age and in her line of work. Cuddy was shocked that instead of criticism, she found a hug. Stiff and quick, but genuine, Arlene wrapped her daughter up in a hug and just as quickly patted her back and let go. "Finally, the daughter that always wants more…may have enough. Hopefully you can stop chasing every little thing in the hopes of finding some degree of happiness."

Arlene took two steps away and said, "When you have the baby, I can watch my new granddaughter if you'd like. And let me know when she's ready for Friday night with Grandma."

Cuddy was excited that her mother seemed to so easily accept Ava as one of her own. Her thoughts were interrupted by Ava, who was standing next to House, pulling at his jeans. "We getting a baby?"

* * *

><p>They took Ava along for the next ultrasound. Although they told her about the baby, she didn't seem to believe that Cuddy's growing belly actually contained a future sibling. When Ava saw the ultrasound, she was initially just as skeptical as she was before, until she caught the profile of the baby's face through the grainy, black-and-white image, and fell in love with her prospective baby brother's silhouette.<p>

Ava spoke to Cuddy's belly a lot, at first in loud shouts, telling her parents that she had to speak loudly, so he could hear. They eventually convinced her that she didn't have to scream for him to hear her voice.

Ava seemed to have a very active imagination. "Tomorrow after school, do you want to go see Aunt Kate with us?" Cuddy asked Ava one afternoon.

"Is Jack coming?" Ava asked.

"Do you want him to come?" Cuddy asked, assuming Ava was referring to a new imaginary friend.

"Yea," Ava said, walking away. She stopped after a few steps, and ran back to Cuddy, telling her belly, "You can come too!"

Ava started to walk away and Cuddy said, "Do you call the baby Jack?"

"Yea!" Ava said, rolling her eyes in suspiciously Cuddy-like fashion.

"Why'd you call him that?" House asked.

"That's…his _name_," she answered, with an equally suspicious, House-inspired, implied 'duh'.


	102. Chapter 102

**A/N** _thanks to all of the reviewers since last time, LapizSilkwood, partypantscuddy, OldSFFan, Little Greg, suzmum, LoveMyHouse, lenasti16, Boo's House, Zaydasky, IHeartHouseCuddy, housebound, JLCH, ClareBear14, newsession, Bakerstreet Blues, dmarchl, TheHouseWitch, RedTulipAna, IW, KiwiClare, CaptainK8, TDCSI, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, Josam and Mon Fogel.  
><em>

**Disclaimer**_- I don't own the characters of House, MD._

* * *

><p>House and Cuddy were going into PPTH one morning to help Chase with a difficult case. House was determined to help get Ava ready for school, trying, particularly after she defended his parenting to Arlene, to demonstrate that he could be the supportive co-parent she could count on every day. He took the dressed and ready Ava by the hand, telling Cuddy to meet them at the car whenever she was ready.<p>

The cars were parked beneath the building in a garage provided for the occupants. They rode the elevator down, and made their way slowly over to the car, unhurried since they had to wait for Cuddy anyway. When they arrived at the car, House opened the door and dropped the bag with Ava's things onto the back seat, sending the contents spilling onto the floor. He let go of Ava's hand for ten seconds, just enough time to pry the bag open with one hand, and shove her spare clothes and blanket back inside with the other. In those ten seconds, Ava saw a pigeon hop through one of the barred ventilation windows near the roof of the garage, and flutter down to the ground, then she screamed "Bird!" and ran toward the pigeon.

House's heart sunk in his chest as he caught sight of a car, whipping out of its parking spot to leave, Ava was running right into the would be path of the car. He yelled her name, loudly, the sounds of his voice booming and reverberating throughout the space. Ava froze at the echoic sound, stopping short of the path of the car. The car zipped past her, just missing the child. She looked up at House, her face immediately cringing as a loud wail erupted from the tiny figure. Cane forgotten, left against the car, he practically ran to her side to pick her up.

Ava screamed, and House felt overwhelmed with nausea. When he turned around to take her back toward their car, he saw Cuddy standing near the elevator, the expression on her face indicating that she had seen the entire incident. Cuddy was pale and shaking at the prospect of losing Ava, at losing _another _child. She approached them hurriedly, trying to make sure they both were OK, and as she grew close, Ava reached determinedly for her.

After handing her over, House quietly got into the passenger seat, while Cuddy buckled Ava into her car seat, before they began the drive to preschool. Cuddy could see how tense and concerned he was, she made small talk with him and Ava during the trip, but he answered in one syllable answers and rubbed at his thigh while he stared out the window. Ava was equally distant and grouchy during the five minute trip. House made an excuse about his leg, and asked Cuddy to take Ava into school alone while he waited in the car.

When Ava was safely dropped off in her classroom, Cuddy returned to the car. House was still quiet, deep in thought, so Cuddy decided to allow him time to think, and made the drive in silence after resting her hand on his arm, and stroking his wrist with her thumb.

* * *

><p>At PPTH, the team, including two new fellows, conducted the DDX. House sat, listening silently as ideas flew across the table. After a few moments, Cuddy said, "It's Grave's," with certainty, laying out the facts that supported her theory. Chase started to disprove her theory when House finally spoke, barely lifting his chin from his hand, "Cuddy's right, it's Grave's. Check TSH to confirm."<p>

The team rose from the table, some going to conduct the test, some returning to their offices, House quickly flashing a token smile at Cuddy before leaving the room. She wondered what she should do, finally electing to allow him some time to process what happened before intervening. She found him shortly before it was time to leave to pick up Ava, sitting on the balcony. She stepped out with him, shivering slightly at the early spring breeze. "You feeling OK?" she asked, just loudly enough for him to hear.

"How do I know I won't hurt her?" he asked, looking away from the hospital, knowing Cuddy would know exactly what he meant.

"I don't know how _you_ would know…_I _know you won't hurt her. The…same way I know you won't hurt me."

"How do you _know _that?" he asked.

"Because I know you. I know who you are."

"Lots of people know me…they…don't see what you see."

"Because they don't really see you. They _think_ they see you," she countered quietly, yet firmly.

"I terrified her today."

"You probably saved her life," Cuddy said with sincerity.

"I _risked_ her life…by not paying attention…by letting go of her hand in a fucking parking lot. What sort of idiot does that?"

"And…after you let go, you saw your mistake, and took the next step. You will make mistakes with her, House. You have to accept this. Making mistakes is inevitable. You have told me to accept my own missteps as a parent, with Rachel, why wouldn't the same idea apply to you with Ava? I think…a lot of parenting is how you react to those mistakes, or those…situations…as they arise. You didn't willingly hurt her, and you weren't intentionally neglectful. It was…an accident."

"I scared the shit out of her. I spent all that time, teaching her that she can trust me, and then…I break that trust."

"You did_ not _break that trust. She was scared, the noise, the car…she has _never_ heard you raise your voice before…doesn't that actually say something in and of itself? The fact that she never heard you raise your voice, is probably part of the reason why…when you did…she stopped in her tracks."

"But it wasn't my intention to yell. So what happens when I get pissed…when I lose my temper…and I hurt her…or you…or…him," he said, pointing vaguely at her belly.

"You are not John House. You aren't even remotely like him…barely the same species."

"I acted like him today."

Cuddy walked quickly over to his side, turning him to face her. "Then…we saw two _completely_ different events, House. You didn't over-punish her for an imagined…or even real…offense. You didn't act abusively. You saw she was in danger, and you warned her. Had you not yelled…Ava would probably be dead. It's fucking terrifying, isn't it?" she asked.

He nodded. "I don't want her to…be afraid I'm going to hurt her."

"She won't be, because she knows you won't. When you see her this afternoon, you'll see."

"I doubt that."

"I trust you…she does too. I promise, I would not adopt a child with a man that I thought would hurt her. I wouldn't be pregnant with your child if I thought you could hurt him."

House tried to turn away and she grabbed his face, turning him back, still holding his cheek. "You need to get this through your head. You are not abusive. You…are a good man. You're a good dad…already…and you just got started. You've shown me that."

"And every time I try to show you that…when I try to…give the kid a bath, or put her in the car…I screw it up."

"Stop trying to prove to me what I already know. I already know you are a wonderful dad. I already know you are a wonderful man. These are known and treasured truths. You have…nothing…to prove to me…or Ava."

When they went to pick the child up, House wanted to wait in the car. Cuddy told him her back and feet hurt, and she needed him to accompany her to pick up Ava so he could carry the girl back to the car. The two walked into the brightly colored play room, children all across the floor with toys and books, loudly giggling. Ava caught a glance of her parents, and she jumped up, running over to them, and straight to House for a hug. He looked shocked and confused, and then happy. She sat back from the hug and said, "Come see my picture."

House looked at the girl and nodded, and then at Cuddy with a smile. Ava took his hand and dragged him across the room to the table where the children's paintings were drying.

* * *

><p>A few days later, while House and Cuddy were putting together a new crib in the spare bedroom that would serve as a nursery, Ava found a marker. She popped off the lid, and was writing on the wall. House looked over at Cuddy, over the instructions. "She's writing on the wall," he said calmly.<p>

"Yup, she is," Cuddy answered, holding various screws up to figure out which ones were longer than others so she was certain to use the right ones.

House put down the directions for the crib and said, "You…aren't going to stop her?"

"You caught her, you stop her," Cuddy said calmly, as she assembled one rail.

House looked at Ava, who seemed to understand the meaning behind the conversation, and accept the challenge. She looked right at House, bright eyes alive and playful. He knew the face…he made it at Cuddy hundreds of times before, and yet, this three year-old had perfected it: she was daring him to act.

Cuddy picked up the instructions and ignored the showdown. "You really _aren't_ going to do anything…" he asked Cuddy, completely baffled. "She's going for the wall again," he added, tempting her to act.

When they dated years earlier, discipline of Rachel was squarely in Cuddy's corner if she was around, and if not, he often allowed things that she wouldn't so he didn't have to deal with discipline. "It's going to get on the rug," he added, knowing, or rather hoping, that her inner control freak was lurking under the surface, and assuming she'd step in to fix the situation. But she didn't. Cuddy calmly built the crib. "Go ahead, you're her dad. It's all you," Cuddy said. She briefly looked at him, it wasn't a challenge…it was an invitation.

He looked back at Ava, who placed the tip of the marker on the wall, and began to wiggle it, all while looking at him.

"Don't…do that," he said, uncertainly.

Ava smiled, and scribbled more. He reached up, across her, and tried to grab the marker, and she pulled it back behind her, giggling at him. "Come on, kid, give me the marker," he said, a bit more forcefully.

She still laughed at him. "Play with this instead," he said, holding up another toy.

She put the marker against her arm. "That's enough," he said, more firmly. "Give it to me, or…" Cuddy was still building the damn crib, with infuriating aplomb. "Ava," House said, "give me the marker, or it's…time out."

Ava giggled again and scribbled all over her arm. Cuddy glanced at him, trying to look unaffected, but in some ways feeling cruel for not assisting him. He pushed himself up off of the floor, picked her up and put her in her chair. He held out his hand and she finally gave him the marker, and then tried to hop down. "No, kid. You…umm. You have to stay here for two minutes. Remember?"

Ava was baffled by his sudden inflexibility. She wiggled forward, testing how far she could push him, and he gave her a quiet warning, "Two minutes."

He stood near the chair, just like he'd seen Cuddy do. Cuddy glanced at him, and saw that he looked far more uncomfortable and pained than Ava. At the end of two minutes, he pulled her off of the chair and sat her with him. "You…know why you had to sit?" he asked, tentatively.

"Drawing on me."

"And the wall," he said, "and you wouldn't give me the marker when I asked. You have to listen when I tell you something."

"OK," she said, pouting a bit, but not as badly as he had anticipated.

"You can play, or whatever now, OK?" he said.

She hopped down, and went toward the baby toys that were in the corner, waiting to be used to decorate the nursery.

Cuddy looked at him, "You did great."

"Yea. Thanks."

"I know it sucks, but…she has you wrapped around her finger. I heard you cave and give her that marshmallow thing this morning for breakfast, if she doesn't want to go to bed, you let her stay up. Pretty much whatever she wants, you'll give her. She already knows you don't like to say no to her."

"I am perfectly capable of saying no to her."

Cuddy raised an eyebrow and waited for him to circle around to the truth.

"Fine," he conceded, "I suck at telling her no."

"Have to start somewhere," she said, supportively. "If not…she'll be fourteen and running right over you. Boys in her room, stealing cars, robbing banks, racketeering …" Cuddy was joking, but he understood the potential truth of the matter.

"With Rachel, you always took care of that crap."

"You don't have to discipline her my way. Do whatever you feel comfortable with. You're Ava's dad…we're…equals here. You used to have creative ways of dealing with your team…I'm sure you can come up with creative ways to reward or discipline her."

"So…I should fire her if she doesn't listen?" he joked, "bring in contestants to vie for her spot in the family?"

She chuckled, "That's one approach."

They kept assembling the crib, Ava playing happily in the corner. When they finally had the furniture upright, and almost complete, he whispered, "How hard was it for you to sit there while she colored on the wall, and wait for me to do something to stop her."

"Oh…" Cuddy said, pulling the glasses down from her nose, and tilting her head back and forth with thought, "…painfully difficult," she said with a warm smile, "But…you need to have the room to be her dad…to assert yourself in that way, and if I come in and do all of that, it's not fair to you…or her. Down the line, if I was the parent, and you were the bystander, you'd resent it. I'd probably resent it too."

"I know," he said.

"You are _good_ at this…" she said, nodding. "I think it's a bit intimidating…but…you are doing an amazing job."

They were interrupted by the sounds of the little girl's play. "No," Ava said, playing doctor with her bear, "it's never lupus."

Cuddy chuckled laying a finger against her lip as House said, "Well, that settles it, she's a genius. It usually took my fellows _years_ to learn that."


	103. Chapter 103

**A/N**-_thanks to all of the readers of this story, and to the reviewers:_ _housebound, LapizSilkwood, IwuvHouse, JLCH, KiwiClare, SissiCuddles, suzmum, lenasti16, southpaw2, IHeartHouseCuddy, Bakerstreet Blues, Josam, OldSFfan, Suzieqlondon, ClareBear14, partypantscuddy, Way Worse Than Scottish, CaptainK8, alddi, dmarchl, Abby, Alex, Mon Fogel, and HuddyGirl_.

**Disclaimer-** _I don't own the characters of House, MD_

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><p>The next few nights after Ava's near-brush with a moving vehicle, Cuddy was up a lot. For such a small woman, the shift in body weight due to pregnancy occasionally wreaked havoc with her ability to move gracefully, particularly when getting out of bed. The first night, she was up once or twice, the second night three or four times. On the third night, House guessed she was out of the bed more than she was in it.<p>

On the fourth night, he noticed Cuddy's first trip out of bed around midnight. Strangely, Ava was sleeping wonderfully, many nights not waking at all, some nights, going back to sleep after a reassuring hand patted her back, or a few words of comfort were whispered. So _they_ should have been sleeping wonderfully as well. He didn't move, when she shifted, swinging her legs out of bed, and he listened to the sounds of her feet padding down the hall. A few minutes later, she returned, and dropped back into bed. An hour later, the same thing occurred. And then forty minutes after that.

House slept pretty well in their new home on most nights, but no matter how deeply he was sleeping, he noticed every time Cuddy got out of bed. Unmoved from his position, he said when she returned, "Peeing much?"

"Sorry," she answered, "I was trying not to wake you."

"Why wouldn't you use our bathroom?" House asked.

"Um…I was just…walking."

He rolled over and looked at her in the dim light of their room. "Why?"

"Just…needed to."

"Calling your boyfriend?" he teased.

"Yes. Actually, _all_ of my boyfriends. I like to take a separate walk to call each one…so he feels special. If I call them all in the same walk, I just feel slutty," she quipped back.

House chuckled. "So, what's going on? You having contractions? Could just be Braxton-Hicks."

"No, not at all, don't worry," she said reassuringly.

"Well, then what are the little pilgrimages about?"

"I was…checking the house. I'm fine. Let's go to sleep."

He closed his eyes and then they popped back open, "You're a clever one."

Her eyes fluttered open and she turned to face him, hooking a leg over his hip and cuddling closer. "Am I?" she flirted.

"Don't try the bedroom eyes on me. Checking the house? You mean…checking the littlest 'House'? What's wrong with Ava?"

"I wasn't trying to be clever," she giggled, attempting to roll away until he grabbed the back of her knee and pulled it back over his hip.

"What's going on?" he pressed.

"I just, was making sure she's OK."

"Did she have weird symptoms earlier?" he asked, with a hint of concern.

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"Was she crying and I didn't hear her?"

"When does _that_ ever happen?"

"You receive a threatening letter from Spider-Man, stating that he wanted to kidnap her, because I can't picture too many burglars or kidnappers getting up to her window…"

"Shut up," she said, with a giggle, but he could hear the emotion in her voice, in spite of her efforts to cover it. "I'm being irrational, and you are going to make fun of me…so let me…be alone with my irrationality."

"Tell me," he said kissing her chin, then her forehead. "It's about my fuckup…isn't it?"

"No!" she answered adamantly.

"Why do I feel like you are playing with words again?"

"House, it's OK," she said, trying to move beyond the conversation.

"Then tell me anyway. Is it about Ava getting hurt? My fuckup in the garage."

"Now _you're_ playing with words," she responded, "there was no fuckup."

"OK, so it is about that. I feel like shit," he answered, "I made a mistake, but you should know that I will never make that same mistake again."

"Which…is why I don't want to talk about it with you. It isn't about you, or me thinking that you did something wrong. It was…so reminiscent of Rachel. Of everything that happened to her…I couldn't help but…think about that."

"You're keeping shit from me now?" he said, his voice sounding irritated. "I'd rather you just be honest if you're pissed at me than try to spare my feelings."

After extricating herself from his loosening grasp, she clicked on the light next to the bed, "I am _not_ pissed at you, don't put words in my mouth. This is _exactly_ why I didn't want to talk about it."

"Why, because you're avoiding the truth?" he replied, sounding like he was getting angry.

"Now who's acting irrationally?" she said, getting his attention, and forcing him to listen.

"OK, fine," he said, "I'm overreacting. But you're hiding the truth, which is against our mutual agreement on honesty, so…I have a right to be concerned."

"I didn't want to tell you because I don't want you to take it to heart. You already feel guilty enough. You don't need to feel guilty about something that didn't happen."

"Something that could have happened…I was lucky."

He looked at her, and she could see the guilt settling on his face again. "Stop, please," she whispered. "It has nothing to do with you…or your actions. It has to do with my head. With my own memories."

He nodded and gestured for her to continue. "I can't get this…one image out of my head," she continued, "Rachel, after the accident...the first time I saw her in the hospital. Since the other day, I've just been…"

"Imagining the same image, but with Ava," he finished her thought.

"Yea. Every time I close my eyes, I see it. Her, or Rachel…I was just…checking on her…trying to…replace the image in my head with reality. Once I started checking on her…I just…"

"I can see once or twice," he said with concern, "but you're getting a little obsessive…aren't you?"

She stood up, and gestured for him to follow her. He waited behind her as they looked in the room at Ava. Cuddy looked up at him and smiled, saying nothing because he knew everything he needed to know. He understood the comforting feeling of seeing her like that, perfectly safe, and healthy and resting, and had, too recently, discovered how mercurial such discoveries were. Cuddy was appreciating the calm safety of the situation, soaking in a sight that she felt she too often passed up with Rachel, experiencing a moment of peace when everything was fine.

Walking to the kitchen to get a drink, she turned back. "I forgot how often I felt like this with Rachel…that…sometimes it feels like you spend every waking moment trying to protect them from…something. From everything. From bullies, and cars, and disease, and accidents at the park. Look at Ava. She came to us…sad and scared, and now…she's in that bed, safe and sound. She's pushing your buttons, testing boundaries, learning new things. My god, she's like you. Once he's born, I'll probably surrounded by three of you…and I couldn't be happier about it. In that bed sleeping, she's safe…and happy…I like…seeing that I guess. Makes me feel like sometimes…not _everything_ goes wrong."

House was leaning against the counter and started to trace one finger along her belly. He pressed a little harder, just to watch the push back from the other side. It was slight, barely noticeable, but House smirked. "You saying 'hi'?" Cuddy asked.

"I'm picking on him," House said matter-of-factly. "I want to establish my role as alpha-male early on."

Cuddy giggled, "Setting boundaries now, nice." She then asked, hesitantly, "What do you want to name him?"

House looked at her, and poked her growing belly a few more times, until he ceased to get a reaction. "I won," he said to her stomach, smirking. "Finally gave up and admitted my superiority."

"Boy are you in for a rude awakening when he gets here," she teased.

"Umm…Ava likes Jack, that's fine I guess. Why? What do _you_ want to call him?"

"Jack is just…too close…to…ya know…a derivative of your dad's name…" she said, waiting for his response.

"My grandmother, thought I should be named after dad," he said softly. "Apparently there was a big fight between her and my mom before I was born."

"You want to call him Greg?"

"Oh, hell no," he answered. "No, my grandmother was really upset that my mother didn't want to name me John. She felt…it was disrespectful to him…maybe she was suspicious of the whole paternity deal… Or maybe she just…really felt strongly about it. Anyway, after I was born, she called me Jack, anyway, never acknowledged any other name. Sort of…ironic, that Ava picked that name. I liked my grandmother."

"That's nice then. Sort of naming him after you, but, not obviously."

"Reclaiming the derivative for my grandmother. I liked that name so much better. Sounded tougher."

"We'll probably name him that and he'll be all gentle and caring…" Cuddy teased, waiting for House to scoff at the thought.

"Eh…" he said calmly, "At least he won't get picked on for long…I think she'll kick the asses of anyone who tries to give him a hard time," he said, gesturing toward Ava's room.

When House got an idea, he left the kitchen, quietly setting up one computer in Ava's room, pointing the camera at the sleeping child. He put a second laptop on Cuddy's nightstand, facing her, displaying the video of the sleeping Ava. Once Cuddy was in bed, he scooted up behind her, wrapping a heavy arm around her mid-section and whispering, "Now, you don't have to get up. You can open your eyes, peek at her, and go back to sleep."

* * *

><p>One evening, a few weeks later, at the beginning of her third trimester, Cuddy was bathing Ava and House was sitting on the counter. "What do you think happened to CIPA?" House asked.<p>

"As far as I know the disorder has not ceased to exist," Cuddy bantered, as Ava splashed water around the tub. "Why?"

"I meant the girl who had it…I treated her…remember?"

"Yea, of course," Cuddy answered, slathering Ava's head in shampoo.

"Or…Rip Van Winkle, do you know what happened to him?" House asked.

Cuddy dropped her head down to the edge of the tub, "I'm sorry…I'm still sorry…how many times and ways do I have to tell you…"

"No..." House said with a chuckle, "Not looking for an apology. I'm just curious what happened to them. You know…down the line…like the 'where are they now' of my former patients."

The doorbell rang, and House slid down off of the counter. He planned an evening out for them, and Kate and Melanie were coming to watch Ava. When House looked through the peep hole, he saw Medford, waiting on the other side.

After the door was opened, Medford snapped a large yellow envelope out in front of House, "A copy for you…in case you want to celebrate. Winchell has the original, she's moving ahead with your adoption."

House looked down at the envelope, pulling out a fully signed pardon from Governor Paxton. House looked up at Medford, stunned.

"I just came from dinner with the Governor, I wanted to see your reaction…it seems you didn't expect to actually get it?"

"I didn't," House answered honestly. "The first lawyer thought the expungement would happen…that later seemed unlikely, so I assumed the pardon wouldn't happen either."

"May I come in for a minute?" Medford asked.

House stepped aside, wordlessly allowing Medford to enter. "Nice place," Medford said.

Looking at the benefactor with suspicion, House asked, "Why are you here? I'm sure you have plenty of people on payroll who can deliver mail for you."

Medford smiled at him, "I'm really fascinated by you. I'm fascinated by…resilience. Your life was in the proverbial shitter a few years ago, and now…it's not."

"Thank you for the lawyer. And the pardon. And…hopefully for the adoption," House responded.

"I'm not looking for thanks, but you're welcome," Medford said. "What I want to know is what motivated you…what changed?"

"I was…tired," House said honestly. "Tired of…being miserable, I guess."

"And what made you decide that you wanted to be married…adopt a child?" Medford asked.

Cuddy walked out into the living room, wearing workout clothes, hair loosely pulled back, her shirt soaked, carrying their little girl, who was dressed in adorable little pajamas that didn't seem to accurately reflect the destruction she could cause.

"Oh, hi," Cuddy said, feeling embarrassed by her unkempt presentation and the belly that she occasionally wished she could hide.

"Hi," Medford said, walking over to her to shake her hand.

"I'm…gonna go get ready…" Cuddy said, self-consciously fiddling with her pulled back hair. She took Ava with her, back to the bedroom, so House and Medford could talk, disappearing as quickly as possible.

Medford walked back toward House after nodding a goodbye to Cuddy, and saw the smallest grin on House's face, one that was steeped in the happiness and love that Medford himself hoped to find.

"I want what you have," Medford said calmly.

"I don't care how much money you have, they're both taken," House joked.

Medford smiled, "Very few people joke with me. I didn't think I wanted what you have. I thought I was lucky to have _avoided_ the trappings of your current life. I've spent decades telling people that I didn't want exactly what you have. And now…since my niece and nephew are living with me…since I met you…I find myself wanting to have that same expression on my face."

House shrugged, "So…if I have what you want…why help me get more? Why help me with the adoption, or the pardon?"

"You helped me with my niece. I think it's important not to forget your friends. As horrible as it sounds, I guess you're like a little social experiment for me. So let's say…things work out with the adoption…and money really does talk…as do political connections…I have plenty of both…but I digress," Medford smiled. "What will you do next?"

"I don't know. Cuddy and I…like to work, but…I'd like time to take our kids places, enjoy life."

House smirked a bit at the sound of his own words, for the first time referring to 'kids' in the plural, a verbal acknowledgement of his future son.

"I have connections in universities all over the world," Medford said. "If you decide you want to follow through with that."

The doorbell rang, and Kate and Melanie arrived to babysit Ava for the night. "Since you have a babysitter, would you care to go out for a few drinks?" Medford asked.

Cuddy came out from the bedroom with Ava, finally dressed and ready to go. She wore a soft, casual dress, one she looked for in the maternity section, hoping she wouldn't look as huge and undesirable as she felt. She looked absolutely radiant. House stared at her, surprised that no amount of time, or change in condition, or even raising a child, seemed to destroy his admiration for her. "I'll have to wait on that," House said, looking at Medford, "I have a date."

"I'll call tomorrow then, let's discuss your future," Medford said before offering his goodbyes.

House walked over to Cuddy with his envelope, "It's official," he said, looking at her, "I'm…an innocent man."


	104. Chapter 104

**A/N-**_Thank you to all who are still reading after 104 chapters...thanks to all of the reviewers who commented since last time-Jane Q. Doe, partypantscuddy, 6cbrilhante, JLCH, KiwiClare, Way Worse Than Scottish, lenasti16, housebound, IHeartHouseCuddy, IwuvHouse, OldSFfan, Bakerstreet Blues, jkarr, newdayz, Suzieqlondon, SissiCuddles, A, ClareBear14, Josam, Abby, Alex, dmarchl and HuddyGirl  
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_We are down to the last 4-6 chapters, depending on how verbose I get;)  
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**Disclaimer_- _**_I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter includes adult content, marked between the *'s.  
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><p>House and Cuddy kept their date nights, and they quickly became a much anticipated weekly tradition. A few hours, away from everyone else, every Wednesday, still happily insisting that the best way to keep their marriage fresh was to engage in a tawdry, scandalous affair. House would tell people he had his knitting club, and Cuddy was at the shooting range, and she'd smirk and he'd wink and let people wonder what really went on in their lives behind closed doors.<p>

One particular date night, they slipped quietly out of their home after saying their goodbyes, while Ava was playing with her doting aunts. They got into the elevator and House leaned against the wall, "Hard to believe the adoption will be done in a couple of weeks…just in time before junior shows up," he said, turning toward Cuddy when he didn't hear her respond. She was tugging his shoulders down, trying to swoop in for a kiss, fighting their differences in height and the size of her belly just to get to him, and failing.

"I'm excited too," she said, sounding defeated at her attempt at spontaneous affection.

He smiled at her and leaned down, holding her face in one hand and slowly kissing her as the elevator made its descent. "Better?" he asked.

She smiled, "I have another month of this…minimally… My ass is already gigantic and it's only going to get worse."

He looked behind her. "Your ass is really about the same size it's always been, it's the rest of you that's…" He stopped, snapped his mouth shut, and smiled. "You look perfect. Trust me. Besides, before you know it, he'll be here, and you'll be the rapidly shrinking woman."

"Doubtful, but I hope so," she mumbled. "We still have a lot to get ready before he's born," she commented. "Finish his room, get the infant car seat in the car…"

"Plenty of time," he answered. "Besides, save that stuff for at home, it's Wednesday night."

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><p>They got in the car to drive to a club in the city. It was a jazz club, with low lights, and candles on the table, and amazing food served on aged plates. After placing their orders, Cuddy got up from their booth to walk to the bathroom, and a patron who wasn't paying attention plowed into her side, knocking her forward a few feet. He looked down at her, obviously intoxicated, and said, snidely, "Should you even be out this late?"<p>

Cuddy stammered for a minute, before finding her ground, "I wasn't aware I needed your permission," she snapped.

"I can just tell…you're one of _those_ people. Pregnant women don't belong in places like these, if you don't take the health of your child seriously…"

Cuddy was shaking the confusion from her head and almost immediately, House was behind her. "He's right you know," House said to Cuddy, with a deeply condescending tone. "Your husband gave you shoes, _and_ let you leave home, really he's as much of a degenerate as you are. It's not your fault, women can't be left to make these kinds of decisions on their own. I blame your old man for not keeping you on a tighter leash."

"Look pal, there's no need to be all sarcastic, I'm just saying that clubs, at night, aren't the right place for pregnant women," the guy responded.

"It's all the second hand smoke that has you worried, isn't it?" House said, waving his hand to clear the imaginary smoke from the air in the smoke-free club.

"You're a sarcastic asshole, you know it?" the guy responded.

"Or maybe it's the rowdy environment that has you concerned. The median age in here is about…what…85? All of the dancing and breaking of bottles over people's heads," House countered, "Clearly dangerous."

The guy pushed past Cuddy to stand directly in front of House, just barely shoving past her arm, a glance really, but she jerked back, irritated with his insistence that it was his right to comment on her lifestyle, and she could see the anger flash in House's eyes. He had always wanted to protect her, no matter what the status of their relationship, and her being pregnant, certainly did nothing to quell his instincts toward protection. Once House's eyes were locked on the man in front of him, Cuddy was concerned that their fate was sealed, that within moments there would be a fight, and then who knew what would happen after that.

She stepped between them, and said to him, softly, in a tone she knew he would hone in on instantly, "House…please. Your pardon's granted, you have a clean record…let's not put a new mark on it because of this idiot."

His eyes softened for just a moment and he dropped his stare from the man in front of him, down to Cuddy's eyes. They were pleading, calm, and he nodded his head, "Fine."

"After the adoption's through, we'll come back, then you can kick his ass," she offered with a smile.

House nodded at her attempt to break the tension.

"You are such a pathetic excuse for a man," the guy countered, clearly just trying to get a reaction from House.

Of all of the things that he could have said to piss House off, that was one of the worst to choose. Questioning House's masculinity hadn't bothered him for ages. The gay jokes, suggestions about he and Wilson, his own dad calling him a sissy at almost every available moment, that particular insult rolled off of him with little notice. He decided long before that he didn't need to prove his manliness to anyone he wasn't dating. The insult didn't bother House at all.

But it did bother Cuddy.

She turned quickly, tired of the man's behavior, and swung her tiny balled up fist, coming in square contact with his thick set jaw.

In House's retelling of the story, he'd insist, with great pride, that the man bawled, that House was almost positive she busted the guy's nose, and he scurried away in shame with his tail between his legs. In reality, the bully looked down at her with a look of shock and said, "Ouch, that hurt you crazy bitch."

Clearly the punch hurt, but certainly didn't do any real damage. It did get the attention of the bartender. "Tim, man," the bartender said, "are you picking fights with the pregnant woman and the guy with the cane?"

"_She_ hit _me_!" Tim insisted.

"Not what I saw," the bartender shrugged. "Go home for tonight, this fight…is ridiculous."

Tim did leave, and the bartender smiled at the pair and went back to his work. Although Tim's face seemed OK, Cuddy's knuckles were red, and her hand swollen. House wrapped ice in a cloth napkin and laid it over her knuckles. "My hero," he said with feminine flair while fanning his face.

"Shut up," she laughed, "I don't know what in the hell came over me."

"Happens fast, doesn't it?" he nodded in agreement.

"Yea…god I wish I was stronger. He barely noticed."

"He tried to play it off, but you fucked up his face pretty bad," House bragged, "I think he'll have to go find a plastic surgeon."

"You're an idiot," she laughed.

"You picked a fight with a…two…maybe two-hundred-twenty pound man…and _I'm _an idiot?" he teased.

"You aren't ever going to let me live this down…are you?"

"Ummm," he tapped his chin. "Nope. In this corner, Lisa Cuddy, staunch defender of freedom, disenfranchised voters, the downtrodden, and her husband's manhood…" he said like an announcer at a boxing match.

After finishing a nice dinner, and enjoying the music, they snuck off to a hotel, the same one they started using since Cuddy's size became too much of a hindrance to sex in unconventional places. When they had time, they'd go to his old apartment, but most Wednesday evenings, they only had a few hours. They'd pay an exorbitant amount for a nice hotel that they'd use for a bit and then head home.

The people there recognized them, and would begin booking the room before they were even at the counter. House stopped for more ice, and placed it gently against her hand and unzipped her dress while she sat on the edge of the bed. "The least I could do after you defending my honor, is put out," he whispered.

"Well you don't think I took out that oaf for a kiss and thank you, do ya?" she teased.

* * *

><p>"*"<p>

He slipped her dress off of her shoulders, and slid it down her body when she stood up, returning her to a seated position between his legs. He kissed her shoulder, allowing his hands to travel to her breasts, cupping them, holding them more gently than normal because she was so sensitive. "Can we keep these at their present size?"

"No way!" she responded. "Enjoy them while you have them…they're rentals."

When she was like that, aroused and already anticipating him, bringing her to orgasm was unbelievably easy, almost too easy. She wanted sex so frequently and was so often aroused that it actually became a game to try to get her to hold off at all. Sliding his hands down her sides and reaching her knees, he dragged his fingers up her inner thighs slowly, pushing them apart as he moved his hands upward.

He was warm and enticing behind her, and she was impatiently trying to reach between them to touch him. He surrounded both of her hands with his, and placed them on her breasts, directing her to touch them so his hands could travel southward again. As almost always, she was wet and warm and aroused, his thumbs just barely glancing along her, until she took one of her hands and pushed him against her, impatient and desperate. She held his hands in place under hers, enjoying the way they felt moving between her hands and her body, while ensuring that he couldn't easily pull them away.

He pressed two long fingers slowly, firmly inside of her, wiggling them just a bit as her head dropped back on his shoulder, the fingers of his other hand stroking her from the outside with subtle, pulsing motions. When she got too close too quickly, he stilled his hands, before slowly starting to move again. She bucked her body between his body and his hands, surrounded by him as she came, reaching back around his neck and shoulders to hold him close to her. Her recovery period was short, and she stood up and started helping him out of his clothes, pulling her sore hand back momentarily when she remembered how badly her fist hurt.

She shoved him down on the bed, crawling over him, licking and kissing along his length as if they had all the time in the world to be there together. She wanted to work him into a frenzy, to get him to the point of begging, but her body so often betrayed her in this state, and she was usually overtaken by her own needs before he would reach the same place.

She bit her lip and tipped her head back as she guided him into her. She was pulsing already, and he closed his eyes so he could feel all of the sensations of her surrounding him, pulsing, tightening, and then, with patience at first, moving. She came again quickly, making their contact wetter and warmer and all the more pleasant, her insides quivering and flexing, pulling him into her. The sounds of her voice, her breathy requests, everything about having sex with her was still amazing.

He opened his eyes to watch her, she was so self-conscious about how she looked, she'd usually try to turn off the lights, or at least dim them, but she was in such a hurry that time, she forgot to be self-conscious. His eyes looked her over, her breasts were so full, nipples dark, and he wished he could figure out how to be between them while they were having sex. He missed the closeness, and so did she, the feeling of her breasts between them, his chest rough against her soft skin, her once flat stomach against his, their bodies pressed as closely together as possible. In the later stages of pregnancy, positions became less about fun, pleasure and excitement, and more about plausibility and mechanics.

He wished he could explain it to her, so she could understand that, while she felt completely unattractive, fat, and unwieldy, he found her attractive in a whole new way. He would still never understand why she would choose him repeatedly, and she reciprocated that feeling. They both still felt, in very real ways, unworthy of the other. Unworthy of the forgiveness and love that was easily shared after years of avoidance and deflection. Every time he saw her like this, he couldn't believe that, out of all of the men of the world, she would not only agree to sleep with him, and commit to him, but she'd willingly carry his child. The very concept confused him in a wonderful way. For him, being chosen by her was probably his greatest honor.

She appreciated what she thought was his attempt to be sensitive, caring, to overlook her changing body. She thought it was all done out of kindness rather than admiration. She was wrong. The more pregnant she became, as he exhibited more freely his patience and caring, she was amazed that he had chosen her. That he had been willing to examine his feelings about marriage and children, with her. He was willing to share, without embarrassment, that she was his, he was willing to have a child with her, and to fight to keep one. She was astounded by these things every day, and for her, being chosen by him was probably her greatest honor.

She tried to hold off, but the feeling of him, thick and heavy inside her, his eyes, pouring over her body while he tried to act like he wasn't looking at her, was too much. She began to crest, the intensities of her feelings, welling from within. Just as she climaxed, she became almost impossibly tight around him, holding him against her. Her hands were around his waist, her fingers digging into his skin, clawing, clinging, trying to pull him closer and closer. The intensity of the experience was building inside of him for so long, the tension mounting behind a floodgate, with increasing pressure, and when she clenched down on him, while rocking her hips with swift jerking motions, and she screamed, loudly, he knew somewhere in his mind that the rooms adjoining them could hear her, that they, and the staff, probably assumed they were hooking up secretly. Others would never assume this passionately intense couple would return home together to childcare, work and chores when their meeting ended.

When her fingers dug deeply into his sides and she breathed out his name, loudly, as a groan, his body tensed, the only thing in the world was the feeling of him, inside her, of her all over him, and the sound of her voice with his name on her lips. He pulled her tightly on him, groaning loudly himself, unable to mute the sound of his voice, his hands at her back, refusing to allow her to move away, refusing for the encounter to end until they were both done with their moments of ecstasy.

She rolled off of him to one side, wishing she could drop her weight on him, feel the warmth of his body with his heart below her ear. "You are always so hot," he muttered, and then reached his hand around to cover her lips before she could protest.

He swore he'd never walk again, his body weak and tired, and pleasantly devoid of power.

"*"

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><p>She woke him an hour later to go home, and he still felt exhausted, but happy.<p>

They went home, sent Kate and Mel on their way, stopping to check on their daughter, who was resting peacefully in her bed.

House heard Cuddy get up in the early hours of the morning, and was irritated that she was going to check on Ava, despite the fact that he set up the webcam for her. Until he heard her go to the bathroom, and he felt less irritated. Then he heard her throwing up, and felt concerned. She came back to bed, and he asked, "You OK?"

"I don't feel good, dinner didn't sit well with me…and I think I pulled a muscle in my shoulder when I hit that idiot," she said, as she backed toward him and he wrapped an arm around her.

His hand against her neck and the lower part of her face, he noticed her face was puffy. His brain woke up just a little bit. Just enough to register a list of important information.

Swollen face.

Vomitting.

Shoulder pain.

Symptoms.

His eyes popped open and he sat up, turning on the light. She rolled, "What's wrong?" she asked.

He looked at her, "I love you," he said, very firmly. Her eyes slowly focused on him, and she saw his look. There _was_ love in his eyes…and something else. It took her a few minutes to place. It was panic. "What is it?" she asked, "What's wrong?"

He kissed her forehead and said, "Get ready, I'm going to call Kate to watch Ava, we have to go to the hospital now."

She looked confused and then saw the tremendous increase in swelling in her legs, feet and hands. "Oh god," she said, "it's preeclampsia?"

He nodded and stood up to get ready. "We better go."


	105. Chapter 105

A/N-_When I cliffed the last chapter, I said to myself (as I was driving to the shore) Grateful…because, even in internal dialogue, I prefer to maintain my anonymity…I'd hate for me to know who I am…anyway…I said, Grateful, don't be an asshole, update for the readers tomorrow. Because suspense is interesting…waiting that long is just mean._

_That was my intent…I'm sorry folks…this update was supposed to be up in the very wee hours of Saturday morning…but I had no internet at my vacation location due to some storms. Since I had no internet, I haven't been able to read reviews yet, but as always, thank you to all of you who have reviewed, and all who have read. I'm sitting on "borrowed" wifi...hee hee hee._

_Anyway, here's the next…with my apologies._

_There may be formatting errors, as I didn't have much time. Thanks!_

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><p>Kate and Melanie met House, Cuddy and Ava in the lobby of the hospital. Melanie took Ava to Kate's office while they admitted Cuddy, ran a few tests and got her settled into her room.<p>

House sat quietly next to Cuddy, waiting for the test results to come in so he could review them. She had an IV running in one arm, heart rate and blood pressure were also being monitored, and there was a fetal monitor across her belly. The mood in the room was somber and concerned, filled with the worries of the present, and memories of the past. He imagined Cuddy's inner dialogue, filled with the fear that he'd run away from the situation, unable to cope with the stress. Certain that she was imagining him falling into relapse, he moved closer, trying to silently reassure her that he was there with her and present in the moment. They were each grateful that the other was more prone to silence in times of stress than unnecessary chatter. Worrying that her high blood pressure could be influenced by stress, he tried to calm her fears. "No matter what the tests say, I won't leave," he said.

She looked up at him, a bit startled, "Not to sound like I take you for granted, but…I already know that." After the words crossed her lips, she felt guilty for saying them. "I know this is hard for you…I just didn't doubt that you'd be here. But if you need to take a break for a few hours, you can take it. I'll be OK."

"I don't need a break, I'm fine. You can't take a break. You can't be not pregnant for a half hour and have a beer and unwind. "

"It is OK if you need to."

"Thanks."

"You will tell me though…if you need anything, right?"

He looked at her, reading her expression, "I'm not going to relapse either."

"I didn't say that," she answered immediately, "and I definitely wasn't thinking it."

He was stressed, and the luring whisper of Vicodin was omnipresent, and inevitably called more loudly too him in times like those. No matter how happy, or healthy, or different he was, that would always be there. Her trust in him, her faith that he would be by her side, was reassuring for him as her partner, but also as a human, that he was seen for the strength that he could exhibit.

The entire situation was terrifying. For most of his life, he was the only one in his every day "family." At times, he looked out after coworkers and friends, but for most of his adult life, he was the only one in his household. Even in his previous relationship with Cuddy or with Stacy, they were essentially adults leading common, but compartmentalized, lives. He and Cuddy were so intertwined after their mutual struggles through pain and loss, their celebrations of joy, and their mutual growth, that he sometimes wondered how a separation ever existed between them.

He wanted her with him. He tried to think of the last time he really wanted to run away from her, to hide, and it seemed a distant memory. He thought of the comfort of Vicodin, of course. He still acknowledged that he always would, but running away in any capacity, physically or through drugs, would be allowing a defeat he could no longer handle from himself. He knew Cuddy would forgive a relapse, she had made that perfectly clear. He just wasn't sure he could forgive it himself.

On top of everything, it wasn't just the two of them anymore. There was Ava, and although she was strong and resilient, he didn't want the girl to have go through the pain of abandonment again, and he certainly didn't want to lose her after everything they'd been through. The thought that he had fought for, and earned, her trust, only to squander it, was yet another unforgivable offense. There was, of course, Jack to consider, the possibility, although unlikely, that Jack could be saved, and Cuddy could not. Even the remotest chance of suddenly being a single father of two was daunting. The possibility of being a single father of two after losing Cuddy, completely horrifying. He knew he didn't have time to consider those scenarios, and it was pointless to wonder without having all of the facts, but the rationalization did not stop the influx of thoughts.

They began to talk about how unlikely it was that the condition would cause the loss of her or Jack, speaking about themselves as if they were faceless patients, not actual participants, until he saw the stress across her forehead. "Headache's worse, isn't it?" he asked.

She simply smiled.

Kate crept into the room, "I snagged your results, at least what was ready," she said, handing the folder to Cuddy.

House immediately took the file from Cuddy's hands, but sat down on her bed next to her so she could see everything he saw. Hiding her results was pointless, and he wanted her to be part of the process anyway. She pointed at her liver enzyme levels and cringed. The obstetrician entered, rolling her eyes. "I was looking for those. I'm Dr. Newton, I'm assuming one of you stole my test results since they're in your hands?"

Newton opened her computer and reviewed the results. "This is sort of a good news-bad news situation, although, really the bad news isn't _terrible_. You know as well as I do that I'm not supposed to say this, but I find the loss of your son to be highly unlikely. You are three days short of 37 weeks. I'm a bit concerned for you, Lisa, with the level of hepatic involvement, and what sounds like a relatively abrupt onset of symptoms. Preliminarily, the baby's lungs seem pretty well developed. Because of the severity of your symptoms, I'm going to suggest that we try to deliver as soon as possible. I'm also putting you on anticonvulsants, just in case. OK?"

"Let's just wait the three days," Cuddy said. "Three days will put him over 37 weeks. It's safer."

"The lungs look good, we should deliver as soon as possible," House responded, nodding at the doctor.

"It's not that much longer to wait, if we're already waiting 24 hours, that's just two more days," Cuddy responded, also nodding.

"I wouldn't suggest that," Newton answered. "Your condition has progressed rapidly. Your liver function tests are…terrible, if I can be honest, but you don't need me to tell you that. If this progresses to eclampsia, you're looking at an entirely…"

"We'll talk about it privately," House said, "But count on the induction."

"Look," Newton said, in her most diplomatic voice, "We can run the tests again later this afternoon, and compare. I don't think I'd recommend waiting any longer. If we induce tomorrow, since this is your first, we're still looking at probably fifteen to twenty hours of labor, and then you are really only a day short." Newton walked over to Cuddy, laying a hand on her arm, "Trust me, the baby's lungs will be fine. We'll add steroids as a precaution."

Cuddy smiled at her, still uncertain about the best course of action. When Newton left, House immediately said, "I know it's unlikely that things would get that bad, but it's not worth the risk. We both know how Rachel ended up with you," he said, his face tense.

"Nowhere near the same thing," she retorted. "I'm here, already receiving treatment."

"The only _cure_ is delivery. And this is _way_ too near the same thing."

"We wait the three days, then induce," she said decisively.

"No, that makes no sense, you're fighting me over three days, we take the safer route."

"Safer for me, or safer for him?" she asked.

"Newton's right, by the time you deliver, we're really talking about one day."

"How is you arguing over one day any different than me arguing over one day?"

"Because I'm right. If we wait until when you want to, we're waiting three days, then the additional day, so that's actually four days from now. Which is too long. This isn't mild…this isn't moderate…you're in the severe range. The next step is eclampsia. This isn't something to mess around with."

"Let's see the results tonight," Cuddy said, trying to table the discussion. "How's Ava?" She asked Kate.

"Mel said she's doing fine, they're downstairs." Kate answered.

"House, can you check on her, please?" Cuddy asked.

"I disagree with you on your treatment, and you're kicking me out?" he asked, sounding hurt.

"No…" Cuddy began.

"I'll wait outside," Kate interrupted before leaving the room.

"I am not kicking you out. I was hoping maybe you could tell if she could handle coming up here for a little bit. I'd like to see her, but if she's having a rough day, I don't want to stress her out more."

"You know what would stress Ava out…you _dying_… The kid's been waiting her whole life to have a real mother. Don't be a martyr about this," he said, "this is your health we're talking about too. If his lungs look good, there's no reason to delay."

"I don't want to lose another child. If I make this decision, and our baby doesn't survive…"

"The _fetus_ will be fine," he said coldly, trying to force some objectivity into the discussion. His eyes shifted up to her vitals monitor as her blood pressure and heart rate began increasing. He leaned closer to her, "the _baby_ will be fine," he said in a near whisper.

"You're just saying 'baby' to calm me down," she accused. She had tears in her eyes, which didn't fall, but he could see the concern on her face. A fear that maybe he didn't feel the connection that she thought he was feeling for their child.

"No…I was trying to calm you down when I said _fetus_. Which obviously didn't pan out."

Her vitals continued their chirpings, constant reminders of the potential gravity of the situation, which made him anxious, which made her even more anxious. He got up and, for a moment, she thought he was leaving to take a break from their discussion, until he limped to the monitor, his leg more heavy and pained than normal. He silenced the monitor, and turned the display around, so that neither of them could see it. He slipped back into bed with her. "Let's do this without the panic alarms going off behind you."

"I thought you felt something different with him…like you do with Ava. I thought you didn't just see him as some…as any…ordinary fetus. I thought you saw him as our son. I've watched you, you seemed…engaged and interested. I totally misread everything and believed that you really felt something for him….how did I misread that? How did I fabricate this belief that you already care about him…."

"I do….I care about him. You didn't misread it or fabricate it. He's…ours. I was trying to help you be objective for a moment…or…maybe I was trying to help _me_ be objective for a moment. I want him to arrive just as healthy, pink and needy as you do. But…the doctor said his lungs are fine. She also said _you're_ tanking pretty quickly. I think you should induce now, but we'll see what the tests say later today. OK?"

"OK," she responded. "Can I please see Ava for a bit? Then we'll have to figure out what we are doing with her for tonight."

"Don't worry about tonight, I can take care of it," he assured her.

Kate peeked through the door, "Hey Lisa, while I'm out here, is there anyone you want me to call, your sister, your mother?"

House and Cuddy simultaneously pleaded, "NO!" with Cuddy adding, "Please do not call my mother. Not yet. We'll call her when we know what's going on."

House added, "We…should probably call my mom. It will take her a while to schedule a flight."

He looked at Cuddy, uncertain what her reaction would be to his suggestion, but she nodded, "That sounds good," she replied, with a delicate smile.

When House left to get Ava, Kate spun the display on Cuddy's monitor back around, and restored the sound so that she could be properly monitored. Kate showed Cuddy the long paper printout that recorded the baby's heart rate. "Cool, huh? He's doing fine, Lisa."

"Yea," Cuddy said, tracing her fingers along the paper. "I need a favor."

"I think you should induce now," Kate said, looking her in the eye and speaking with definite sincerity.

"I didn't say I needed an _opinion_. I said I need a _favor_."

"Go ahead," Kate said, sitting down next to Cuddy's bed.

"If anything happens to me, please…"

"Don't be ridiculous, people deliver babies every day. You guys caught all of this in plenty of time, it's going to be fine. You are here, in wonderful hands."

"Just hear me out, please."

"OK, yea," Kate replied hesitantly.

"If anything happens, please be sure that he isn't alone…make sure that he doesn't have to do all of this by himself."

"You two need to stop worrying…he said the same thing not all that long ago. If anything happens to either of you, count on me. Until then, stop worrying."

Kate looked past Cuddy's head at the monitor, and took her hand. "Lisa, you need to listen to me. I saw the images of your baby's lungs. He's fine. He can breathe. You need to deliver this kid…because your BP's insanely high. I will help House in any way I can if anything happens to you. I can help with kids, with chores, with moral support, and all I ask, is that _you_ do _your_ part. The one thing I can't ever be for him…is you."

Cuddy turned around to look at the blipping display behind her. "Trust me," Kate said, "It's time."

"Yea, OK."

"I'm gonna call Newton, tell her what's going on. You'll be holding your baby boy by this time tomorrow."

House and Ava came through the door a few moments later, Cuddy was sitting alone in the room. Ava ran up to her but was suspicious about the wires and lines connecting Cuddy to various instruments. "Hey sweetie," Cuddy said to Ava, "I think Jack wants to meet you a little sooner. I hope that's OK."

"Oh sure, he can come," Ava said happily. "When?"

"Hopefully tonight," Cuddy said, smiling at Ava, and then at House, who looked relieved at her decision, and then more than a little concerned at her vitals.

They induced labor later that day. Cuddy asked that they be given as much privacy as possible. Ava happily went with Mel and Kate, excited to meet her brother when he arrived. Newton and a few nurses would stop in to monitor progress, but for most of the hours after they began to induce labor, it was just House and Cuddy.

As her labor progressed, she demonstrated her calm and poise. Handling increasingly painful contractions, she would close her eyes and take deep breaths, and she didn't verbalize a single complaint. As things became more intense for her, he wanted to do something. He found it difficult to be the bystander while someone else was in pain, but her steady acceptance of the pain reminded him of how much he admired her.

When the nurse came in for the next check, House said calmly, "You want the epidural now?"

"I'm doing fine," she responded.

"Come back in five minutes, she needs some drugs," he told the nurse as she was leaving.

"I told you, I'm fine. An epidural might slow the labor, and I just want to get through this," Cuddy answered.

Frustrated, but not deterred, he propped up a few pillows and leaned her forward over them and began applying counter pressure on her lower back during more difficult contractions. At least it was something he could do to help her when she was in pain, after the countless times she rubbed his leg and tried to help him manage his pain. Soon the occasional chatter from the earlier stages of labor was almost entirely replaced with silent communication.

After 15 hours of labor, Cuddy was not progressing quickly enough, and her preeclampsia continued to get worse. The doctor decided that an emergency C-section was their only option, and the exhausted Cuddy, and wearied House, agreed.

House stood supportively by her side, while they readied her for surgery in the operating room. Her anxiety began to calm as the sedatives took effect. Before they started, she looked at him and said, with a faint smile, "How many times did you walk into an OR without a surgical mask…it almost seems strange to have one on you. We are such idiots. We should have been doing this twenty years ago."

He smiled behind his mask, "Yea, probably. We do things our own way. It's why we're cooler than everyone else."

She giggled, "You were so handsome, even then. I still remember exactly how you looked at that dance back in school, I remember that first night we shared…and how your hair was all messed up in the morning, and you looked so sleepy and…content. You spent so much of your life not feeling like that…so much of it feeling hurt or angry. I guess I'm responsible for a good amount of that…"

"Stop, Cuddy," he interrupted with a whisper, "We'll talk about the past some other time."

She was silent for a while, then added, "I remember how you used to get that devious smile when you'd pull something when you worked for me, and my MRI…the things you did to my MRI…I think we went through more of those than any other hospital!" she laughed.

"Cuddy," he interrupted, "Seriously, let's not talk about this right now. Talking about this now feels way too much like a goodbye…"

He desperately needed her to stop. Her reminiscing sounded like last words and it did nothing to calm his fears. She could see the pain and worry in his eyes, and agreed to a change in topic. "Fine, what should we talk about?" she asked.

He looked in the air, "I want to run away."

"Mmm," she hummed in agreement, "Me too, where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere," he answered. "You…me…the duo of evil….you pick the destination."

She giggled. That was the day he playfully named his children, collectively, as "the duo of evil" and the nickname stuck.

After all of their expectations of catastrophe, their fears and preparation for a death, for loss, for devastation and sorrow…Cuddy survived the surgery as well as could be expected. Around four am, Jack was born. He was small, weighing in at five pounds, nine ounces, but he cried when they cleared his lungs, and both House and Cuddy breathed a well-earned sigh of relief.

Cuddy asked House how Jack looked, since she couldn't immediately see him. House looked on the other side of the curtain and said, "Umm…he's…_cute?_"

"No lies, House!" Cuddy said, sounding angry and concerned, "is he OK?"

"Yea, he seems OK," House said, hesitantly adding, "He's…kinda scrawny, I've seen tougher looking baby birds…but we can work on that. I think he's….kinda cool."

It wasn't until that moment that Cuddy realized she would be temporarily separated from her son while the doctors and nurses tended to each of them separately. "House," she said, "listen to me, please…don't let him out of your sight. Make sure they do everything right, make sure they don't…miss anything….make sure he gets what he needs, and if he doesn't…annoy the hell out of them until he does."

House kissed her softly. "I'm the man for the job," he smirked, "trust me."


	106. Chapter 106

**A/N-** _My goal is to write a post finale fic that spans 18 days. Very different from this one, much less fluffy, but a good romance and some drama…at least I think. _

_With this current fic, I know a few of you feel like I'm skipping over some of the parts you really wanted to see, so I'll try to add a few detail chapters to this story before drawing to a close, where I was going to gloss over some stuff. So I'll add a few extra chapters, but the last thing that I want to do is ruin this by making it drone on once it's done and become too boring._

_Thanks to all who reviewed the last 2 chapters: 6cbrilhante, Abby, alddi, Alltheloveintheworld, Alex, Anon, Bakerstreet Blues, bonnieyy77, CaptainK8, ClareBear14, dmarchl, hfspc, Hols14HL, housebound, HuddyGirl, Huddyholic, IHeartHouseCuddy, iridescentZEN, IwuvHouse, jkarr, JLCH, Josam, Justakissgoodnight, KiwiClare, Kraw, LapizSilkwood, lenasti16, LoveMyHouse, melbell, Mon Fogel, precioussoulHAHA, Ola, OldSFfan, partypantscuddy, SissiCuddles, SupaDupaAlex, Suzieqlondon, suzmum, TDCSI, TheHouseWitch, The Real Anon, Way Worse Than Scottish_

**Disclaimer-**_ I don't own the characters of House, MD._

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><p>Cuddy woke from her rest and found House on the reclining hospital chair next to her, with a tiny ball, covered by a blanket on his chest beneath his button-down shirt. Tiny Jack was in there somewhere, he had to be kept close, just to stay warm or under a warming lamp.<p>

House looked tired, or more appropriately, completely exhausted, but he also looked content sitting there. When he saw she was awake, he stood, keeping the infant tightly against him. She asked, "Can I hold him?"

"Here you go…and good luck," House replied, his voice light, quiet and teasing, "He's five hours old, and _really _opinionated already, you can tell he's ours. Kid's done nothing but bitch at me about how my nipples are extremely disappointing."

Cuddy held the child for the first time, noticing the tenderness in her lower abdomen, but unfazed. "Look at that hair," House said, pointing to the pile of black hair on top of the child's head. "It's the only thing on him that's over developed...well…that and his twelve inch penis…he definitely got that from my side. I hope he can grow into it!"

Cuddy giggled, unable to believe that she was actually holding their child. "Is he OK?" she asked, running her fingertips along his cheek and chin.

"Apgar's through the roof. He's doing great…except for the fact that he's scrawny as hell. He's breathing fine. Seems pretty tough though. For a little guy. He gets that from you…the little part…the tough part is from me…_obviously_. In case you didn't notice, they need to keep him for observation in the NICU for few days."

Cuddy looked around the room with confusion, knowing full well that the room they were in was not the NICU.

"Well…we're the room next to the NICU. I pulled a string or two…since we have a team, I felt the boy will be…" House paused mid-way through his sentence, hearing the term 'the boy' emerging from his lips and immediately disliking the similarity to his own dad's words. He seemed to reset his thoughts, "I felt our son would be well looked after."

Cuddy smiled at House, "We have a team?"

"Well, I'm a doctor…and you…what do you do again? Anyway…we have a team. Kate wants to see him. Celia may die if she doesn't get to see him soon. She's already told me she's the third grandmother. Wilson and Chase will be here tomorrow."

"Oh my god, my mom. I forgot to call her."

"I got her…and my buddy Julia. I told them they'd have to wait a day or two because of the NICU rules. Germs and all that. My mom is coming up tomorrow, we'll try to control the stream of admirers."

Jack's eyes fluttered open, and she saw the cool, muted, blue-grey eyes that infants are often born with, She found a definite alertness there, as he studied her face while listening to her voice, trying to focus his eyes. "Hey there," Cuddy said, "nice of you to join us. That was quite the dramatic entrance."

"Yea…he joined us…after he tried to kill you," House joked. "This is how we can introduce him. 'This is Jack, the one who tried to kill Cuddy'. Just so you know, at this exact moment in time, I can say honestly that you've left me with _all_ of the childcare responsibilities. I've changed all of the diapers, I've fed him, clothed him…I feel so taken advantage of…"

She smirked at him, "What a dad."

Cuddy looked down at the tiny fists jerking through the air and looked startled, "House…what the fuck just happened?"

He turned downward to face her, watching her wince as she shifted to the side to give him room, and he sat down next to her. He looked at his son and at her and said, "I…honestly have no idea. I remember you showing up at the bar…and you looked…really good…actually you looked really, _really_ good. We hung out for awhile, got naked a lot, and now…we're here. "

"This…is the baby _I_ carried?" she asked, baffled. "You and I…did this?"

"Guaranteed, unless that rumor about you and the pool boy is true."

"Our building doesn't even _have _a pool," she answered.

"Which is why I thought having a pool boy seemed a bit suspicious."

"Don't worry about Jacques…he had a vasectomy, I did it for him personally," she teased.

"Ow! I knew it!" he joked back. "I did just as you requested, I followed him all around. I knew that someone would want to switch their ordinary spawn for our genetically superior progeny. I watched while they did Apgar, drew blood, Vitamin K shots, gooped up his eyes, weighed him…I gave him his first sponge bath personally."

"No you didn't."

"Yup, I did. I'm trying to show him from the start who the man is in our family, and prove to him early on that I am capable of bathing my kid. I'm hoping he'll tell our eldest, and that maybe then she'll believe him. She still just laughs at me the second I start running the water."

"And he's fine…really?"

"Yea. They'll do a few follow-ups, watch for developmental issues, but, he's doing fine."

"I never thought…" she breathed out slowly, "I _never _thought this would happen. I accepted long ago that this would never happen. I definitely didn't think it would happen with you. And…here we are!"

"Here we are," he responded with a nod. "So…when are you going to tell me what Kate said to make you change your mind?"

"What makes you think that she said something that changed my mind?"

"Because I was gone…ten minutes…and I returned and you were ready to go. Now…she didn't know any facts that I didn't. And I'm pretty sure I made some very convincing arguments…so it wasn't that you needed someone to appeal to your sense of reason…so what was it."

Cuddy looked down at the baby who was drifting back to sleep in her arms. "Maybe it was just a girl talk moment…"

"I doubt it. I'd rather you just tell me you don't want to tell me than lie, so…what's it going to be?"

"Kate promised she'd help you with stuff…if anything happened to me…"

"See you knew how dangerous it was to wait if you were making contingency plans!" he accused, although quietly to avoid disturbing his son.

"I know. I didn't want to feel as if I sacrificed him in order to save myself. If he died…god, the guilt would kill me…"

"So…what did she say, that made you change your mind?"

"This sounds so narcissistic…"

"Go on."

"She said that she could help you with all of the ordinary things, but she couldn't take my place."

"She definitely doesn't have the ass for it," House joked.

Cuddy looked down at her child, tracing his small face, his arms and fingers, and feeling filled with awe at the human in front of her. House realized she stopped talking. "Tell me the rest…and I'll tell you if you're a narcissist."

Cuddy's eyes left her son as she turned to meet House's gaze, and saw his interest mixed with curiosity. It was one of those looks that seemed to make him so attractive to her. She leaned up to him, placing one, soft and slow kiss against his lips and then looking back at the infant. "Kate said that she couldn't replace me, and I just started…picturing you, overwhelmed…trying to raise two kids. I pictured you…seeing Jack and feeling sad on his birthday because you'd know that was the day that I died. I know you. That…underlying sense of nostalgia, and a little fact like that would always sit in your head. And I _know_ you'd still be a wonderful father, because you'd put it all on the line for those kids all day…you'd show everyone what I already know…but, at the end of the day, you'd be there alone. You'd be sad on Wednesday nights…when you'd have to carry on our affair alone…and I also know…you'd still go. I couldn't stand the thought of you being so hurt."

She turned her glance to him momentarily, to see what he was thinking, and saw the vulnerable look in his eyes that he sometimes got when he felt she knew him a bit too well. He hoped it was true that he'd still be a good father, he certainly knew he'd try to be. But the thought of keeping their Wednesday nights, of keeping that tradition in her memory, was something he could so easily see himself doing. He could picture himself visiting the jazz club alone…probably even sitting at their hotel…just being as close to her memory as he could.

He felt like breaking down at the thought, he felt his heart aching at even the concept of such thoughts becoming reality. Then she said, "House? Am I…completely wrong?"

The sound of her voice reminded him that she was still there. That fears of her leaving were just that…fears. He shook his head no.

"After everything, I just…don't want to hurt you anymore. I don't want to be the one responsible for making you feel that way if I can prevent it," she said with heartfelt honesty.

He had no words to answer her with, leaning down into her bed, laying his head on her pillow, and rolling it to face her. He lifted one hand to her neck, his fingers reaching up to her cheek, where his fingertips faintly moved across the silky skin, and he kissed her, savoring the moment of quiet and feelings that were painfully real and wonderful. He backed away when he realized that a gurgled complaint emanated from Jack, whose eyes were open again. There was a soft knock on the door, and Kate walked in, feeling that she was probably interrupting something. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Look, Mel has Ava downstairs are you guys ready for her?"

Cuddy nodded enthusiastically, ready to see what Ava thought of her younger brother. Kate crept over closer, "Can I…see him?" she asked, almost nervously.

"Of course," Cuddy said, as she watched Kate step quickly over to the sink to wash her hands and return to the bedside.

Kate reached down and picked up Jack. "I'm Aunt Kate. I'm the one you'll go to with all of the stuff you're too afraid to tell your parents," Kate smirked as she met scowls from the two parents sitting on the bed. "I'm kidding," Kate said, "I'm _sure _you'll never get into all of the bad stuff that your parents, and I, and almost every other kid on the planet get into…anyway, you're stuck with me, so, get used to it. We'll have some fun on Wednesday nights when you get a bit older, you, me and your sister. Sound good?"

Kate took him back to his parents, handing him to House and grinning. "What are you grinning at?" he asked.

"A new dad…who knows he has to be careful not to hurt his little defenseless premature baby."

House had a questioning look on his face, uncertain about what she was thinking until she wrapped an arm around him and kissed his cheek. "I don't know why Lisa puts up with that scouring pad on your face," she teased before patting his shoulder, "You did good Papa. Congrats."

Kate walked to the other side of the bed and sat next to Cuddy, giving and receiving a full hug. "You…did an amazing job…I am…completely in awe of you," she said, and then looked down at Cuddy's hand, a bit bruised and swollen from her fight with the club bully. "Holy hell…they must have changed how they do C-sections since the last one I saw."

"Some woman told me I was hot…Cuddy flipped out," House replied.

"I'm sure…" Kate said skeptically with a smile, before the door opened and Ava peeked through the tiny opening. Mel was holding the door open and Ava whispered, "Come in?"

Kate walked over, picked up the girl, helped her wash her hands, and placed her on the bed with the rest of her family before sneaking, unnoticed, out of the room. Ava looked at the baby and at House, and then back at the littlest person she had ever seen with reverence and awe. "Is he real?" she asked, just as Jack's fist moved and his eyes opened in search of another voice he knew to be familiar, and Ava gasped with delight.

She reached one finger out and touched his hand, and giggled softly, knowing instinctively to be quiet so she didn't frighten him. "Oh, I love him," she said, almost analytically, as if she had observed, cataloged her findings, and arrived at the decision. "We keeping him?"

"Oh, I really hope so, baby," Cuddy said to Ava, extending her arms outward to hug the little girl, who eagerly made her way onto Cuddy's lap.

"You sick?" Ava asked, surveying the various beeping apparatuses surrounding Cuddy.

"No sweetie, they'll have all of this gone soon. I'm doing fine," Cuddy said, as Ava bounced and twisted on her lap.

House could see the pain on Cuddy's face from the twisting child against her abdomen, but Cuddy said nothing. "Hey, Ava," House said, "Your mom had surgery earlier, they had to cut open the bottom of her belly to get out this guy, and then they closed it back up, but it will be sore for a while, so, we have to be really careful near her belly, OK?"

Ava looked sad for a moment, even at the gentle correction, and Cuddy worried that it was too much information for such a young child. "So was there soothers?" Ava asked, transferring her emotions from sadness to curiosity.

"Sutures," House corrected. "Well, actually staples probably, I didn't check yet."

Cuddy looked, at first with amazement, and then acceptance, that for some reason, this was a perfectly normal conversation between House and his daughter. She never thought he'd talk down to the child, although she was sometimes amazed at how much information he gave her. Cuddy overheard a discussion a few weeks earlier, when Ava asked, "How dat baby get in there?"

House had a very calm, very scientific discussion with Ava including gametes and zygotes, and although he avoided any references to the sexual nature of conception, she was only three, his description of early development gave Ava plenty to consider. She was known for asking these questions and she always took her questions to him, so she must have enjoyed the discussions. Cuddy was seldom surprised by the topics she'd overhear them discussing.

So Cuddy wasn't terribly surprised when House handed Jack over to her, pulled Ava on his lap and explained the risks of infection and why they had to be careful with Cuddy and Jack. After the discussion, Ava sat between them, and they very carefully helped her to hold her little brother as she wore a look of the utmost pride and joy.

As the day wore on, House knew he had to make a decision for Ava's care for the rest of the night. His first option was to send Ava with Kate for the evening, but Ava was already there the previous night, and he didn't want to give her the impression that she was being pushed aside now that there was a younger member of the family. His second option was to leave with her, take Ava home, and the two of them could return in the morning, but he couldn't watch over Cuddy and Jack from home. He decided on a third option.

House called Kate, who brought up a portable crib and some blankets. The maternity rooms were set up so that fathers could remain, so he only had to find a safe place for Ava. Once she had a portable crib set up, they were all ready, and he ordered takeout for them in their room.

Later that night, after they had all eaten dinner, House settled into his large reclining hospital chair. He was just about to drift off when he heard Cuddy call for him. "I can't sleep here alone, get over here," she whispered.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Get your ass over here," she replied.

He complied, limping gingerly to her bed. His leg was sore and heavy from day's running and stress, but he joined her. The moment he was there, he was glad he did. Resting in a little bassinet, over to their right, was Jack. Next to him, in her own crib, was Ava.

He whispered, "You…did an awesome job."

"Whatever," she said, assuming it was a joke, and pulling him closer.

"I'm serious, you did. I'm sure that sucked, going through all of that, and then to have the C-section anyway. But…if you want to talk about how hot and wonderful I am _now_…you can. Now that…I'm not worried you're gonna leave me behind."

"I'm sorry I made you nervous. I was just there…on that gurney thinking about everything that got us to this point. I wasn't trying to freak you out. All of those images were just…floating around in my head."

House and Cuddy exchanged soft good night kisses and she cuddled against his side with a pillow pressed to her abdomen between them, as he sighed contentedly. He managed to keep almost everyone away for that day, a day, just for the four of them. Right there, in a big, bustling hospital, in the middle of the city, they were in their own private world. They knew, the next day, friends and family would be coming to meet the new baby, and wish them well. House sighed aloud, "Arlene and Blythe, together again…"

Cuddy smiled against his chest, "Enjoy the quiet while you can."


	107. Chapter 107

**A/N**-_thank you to everyone who has read and all of those who have reviewed since the last chapter: JLCH, lenasti16, alddi, IHeartHouseCuddy, Zaydasky, Alltheloveintheworld, huddyholic, The Truth, Bakerstreet Blues, crazyforhuddy, OldSFfan, jkarr, Mon Fogel, dmarchl, partypantscuddy, TheHouseWitch, SissiCuddles, ClareBear14, precioussoulHAHA, CaptainK8, IWuvHouse, Abby, hfspc, Alex, HuddyGirl, KiwiClare._

**Disclaimer-**_I don't own the characters of House, MD._

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><p>Cuddy woke when the night nurse came in to monitor vitals and check her incision. "How are you feeling?" the nurse asked.<p>

"Just fine," Cuddy nodded, grimacing when she leaned back so the nurse could check her incision.

The nurse looked at the IV pump and commented, "You haven't used any of your morphine?"

"I feel fine," Cuddy answered.

"Do you want something else for the pain?"

"Just the Tylenol. I'm managing well," Cuddy insisted, although the nurse still looked concerned.

"Please keep in mind, you just had major surgery. I know it's easy to forget with the baby and everything."

"I know, thank you."

"We'll keep the morphine here for a few more hours, just in case you need it." The nurse looked at Ava on her way to Jack and turned back to Cuddy, "My god your daughter looks like your husband!" the nurse exclaimed, shaking her head.

Cuddy simply smiled and nodded, remembering all of the times that people told her that Rachel was the spitting image of her. The nurse checked on Jack's status, and left the room again. House reached across her for the morphine button, eyes still closed, and held it up. "Don't be a moron," he mumbled.

"I'm _not _being a moron," Cuddy responded.

"They just cut through skin and muscle, into internal organs, shoved some other stuff out of the way, and pieced you back together again. And you don't feel a little sore?"

"I do feel a little sore. Which is _why_ I took Tylenol."

He opened his eyes, feeling frustrated. "You aren't taking it because of me."

"Not true."

"True. You aren't taking it because you think I can't handle seeing you on opiates. Don't make me feel like you have to be in pain to protect my _fragile_ recovery."

She raised an eyebrow and made a face that demonstrated exactly how wrong he was. "And _I'm _a moron? Sorry, but this time…you _are_ wrong."

"OK. If it isn't because of me…then explain to me why you aren't taking it…" he said, doubtful that there was a logical explanation that wasn't exactly what he suspected.

"It _is_ because of you," she began, "it's because of all three of you. I have this great thing that I've wanted. Our kids are OK, you are here with me…I don't want to be drugged up and sleeping through our first couple of days together, and not remember a thing. Does it hurt? Yea…a little. It won't hurt forever, and having the pillow against me, and then leaning against you…makes it feel a lot better. If it becomes really painful, I'll take the morphine…no problem. I'm doing something to alleviate the pain," she answered. "Of course I'm leaning against you as part of my pain management plan, so as always, I'm using your body for my own gratification," she added, teasingly raising an eyebrow.

He responded with a smirk, but avoided her gaze. "Sorry," he murmured.

"Get your ass back here and shuddup," she said, smiling and tugging his sleeve.

They slept on and off throughout the night, getting up when Jack did to feed, change and hold him before putting him back in his bassinet. Ava slept well until almost sunrise when she seemed to have some nightmares. House picked her up from her crib, and let her sleep the remaining hour with him and Cuddy in the tiny hospital bed.

Ava darted up when Jack began crying in earnest in the morning, that strange, quivering, desperate billy-goat-bleat cry that the tiniest of people produce. She looked a bit startled by the sound, and concerned with the reason why her brother was making it. Ava waited with patience and curiosity while her parents took care of his needs, and his whining calmed. House took Ava for a walk when Dr. Newton returned to check on Cuddy. They went to the office to find Celia, who doted on the little girl with all of the admiration of a grandmother.

Ava liked Celia, she was warm, friendly and affectionate, without being too overbearing, and her voice was always cheerful and unique in its lilt. When Ava would accompany her parents to work, Celia would often keep the girl in her office, sharing something she made in her own kitchen at home, which was always delicious. Celia, having three children of her own, was familiar with the jealousy that sometimes accompanied the birth of a new child. She was paying careful attention to the little girl she already knew and loved, and then Ava said, "Come see Jack! I told you guys that was his name."

Celia looked at House, who responded, "Yea, he just confirmed, that's actually him!"

Celia laughed, "OK little one, let's go!"

Ava certainly didn't appear jealous. In fact, she seemed almost too excited with the new presence in the family.

Celia looked at the new baby and gushed, "My lord he is one, beautiful baby."

After visiting a while, House left to take Ava to preschool, trying to maintain some sense of normalcy in what was suddenly a very mixed up life. When they got to school, House picked her up from her car seat, now very adept at handling a cane and Ava's belongings, which he now stored in a backpack instead of an open bag, and the child herself. After he closed the car door, he saw Ava's lip quivering.

"What?" he asked quietly, "you don't have to go to school if you don't want to, you can come back to the hospital with me."

Tiny tears fell from the corners of her eyes, and her nose started to run. House opened the car door, placing her on the passenger seat while he faced her from the driver's seat. "What's going on, kid?"

"Do I hafta go back?" she asked.

"To school?"

"To the other mommy."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Never. You never have to go back there."

He worried, for a second, of the possibility that the adoption, which was scheduled to take place in mere weeks, could somehow fall through. "You sure?" she asked.

"Ava, I promise you…listen to me, because I will not promise a lot of things…I promise you I will never, ever let that happen. If someone tries to make that happen, we will do whatever we have to do to keep you. You're ours now."

She nodded a bit, wiping tears with her forearms. He found a tissue for her and she used it and handed him the sloppy, partially balled, wad of fiber and snot and he smiled at her while he took it, realizing that there really wasn't anyone else he'd take such a vile concoction from.

She sniffled, "thanks!" and he smiled at her.

"Jack doesn't change who you are. You are my daughter, _nothing_ changes that. Jack's my son, and I love him too, but he doesn't change you and me…OK? Nothing changes you and me."

Ava looked around the car for a minute and said "OK, I'll go to school now."

House blinked at her, "You want to come back with me? You can if you want."

"After school, I'll come back with you," she said calmly. Then she turned her head sympathetically, as if he had been the one crying moments earlier. "You be OK without me?"

He smiled, "Wellllll…I guess, but as long as it's only until after school. I still want to pick you up after school."

"It's OK, Dad," she said, patting his arm patronizingly, "You'll be OK."

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><p>When House returned to the hospital, Arlene was already in the room, holding Jack, and Cuddy already looked flustered.<p>

"Your sister was early and she turned out fine," he heard Arlene say, his eyes wide as he tried not to say anything to Arlene, trying to screw his mouth shut to the flood of possible insults that were rolling in his brain.

He met Cuddy's smile, which she tried to cover with a finger against her lips. "You can tell you aren't used to infants, Lisa," Arlene said, "you have to be sure to lay him down like this…" Arlene plopped Jack down on his belly.

"You aren't supposed to do that anymore, Mom. Even when Julia's kids were babies…and Rachel."

"When I had them, this is how I cared for them…none of them ever died in their sleep. Plus you're already holding him too much…he'll get so accustomed to it you'll never be able to put him down."

"How long have you been here?" House asked.

"Five…ten minutes…why?" Arlene asked.

"Wow…Cuddy held him that entire time…well…except the time you were holding him…" House countered.

"I can tell that he's used to being coddled."

"He's a day old," House responded. "We'll start the tough love at four days old."

"Is this some sort of attachment parenting crap?" Arlene asked.

"Holding?" House asked, "Yes, we're doing attachment parenting for the first four days, then we switch to the burlap diapers and sandpaper baths. We're desperately trying to create a serial killer."

"I raised my daughters without all that touchy feely crap…you _married_ one of them, so I guess you don't entirely object to the outcomes of my work."

House was prepared to argue, but he caught a glimpse of Cuddy out of the corner of his eye, rubbing her stomach a bit, clutching a pillow to her abdomen when she sneezed. Arlene saw it too, and the pair silently negotiated a truce. "He's very handsome," Arlene said, scowling her concessions.

"Thank you," House replied, "he gets his good looks from his mother," he scowled in return.

She smirked, her eyes telling him his move was 'well played'.

"Now you know not to feed him too often," Arlene said, bypassing House to get to Cuddy.

"We'll get that all taken care of, Mom, don't worry," Cuddy replied.

"Well, I don't know which books you're reading, but I raised two children without books and advice columns, and…"

House trailed off from the conversation, when he saw the door crack open, and Blythe walked in the room. Arlene seemed to visibly soften, just a bit, when Blythe walked into the room. House was waiting for snide remarks from Arlene to his mother, and he wasn't sure how his mother would react. Part of him was interested to see how such an exchange would go, but Cuddy seemed tired. Too tired.

His mother greeted him, and then was surprisingly affectionate with Cuddy, more so than he'd ever seen her with anyone else he was involved with. Of course, he guessed that his mother knew that it was his reunion with Cuddy that led to him having children, so he figured Cuddy deserved at least part of the credit. Blythe hugged her gently and looked at her grandson, "My god, Gregory, he does look like you."

"Everyone seems so surprised…" House answered, sarcastically.

"He looks like, Lisa," Arlene interjected. "I mean, I guess you can see Greg there too, but…"

"He probably actually has traits from both of us…" Cuddy said, already sounding a bit overwhelmed, "Genetics are really funny that way."

A moment later, Wilson arrived. Wilson looked at Jack, over Blythe's shoulder and she handed her grandson to him before walking over to House in a very open, very happy, display of affection. He looked surprised by her hug, but eventually relaxed into it a bit. "Where's my granddaughter…I'd love to see her."

"I'm picking her up at one, she's at preschool," House said, "You can come along if you want to."

"Jack…son of House…" Wilson said, holding the boy up a bit as if it was a ceremonial presentation. He pulled Jack closer and said, "I swore for eons that his existence was a complete impossibility…and yet…here he is. Congratulations," he said to House and Cuddy. He handed Jack back to Blythe, who was happily coddling the child when Wilson said, "Now you get to know what it's like, to spend every moment of every day worrying that something's going to happen…trying to protect them is a full time job."

"Greg can be called many things," Arlene began, loudly. "He can be a condescending jerk, a _decent_ doctor, an insufferable bastard…but…the one thing I'll never call him is a coward."

The entire room looked at her. House, Blythe and Wilson looked on with curiosity, Cuddy looked on nervously. After all of them were looking at Arlene, she said, "Well…he _isn't_ a coward. He certainly isn't the type to stand by, and allow his children to be _un_protected. So…when it comes to the health and safety of my grandchildren, I'm willing to accept a little bit of his smart-assed crap, in exchange for the peace of mind of knowing they are safe."

The room was silent until Blythe cleared the waver from her voice, and said, "I couldn't possibly agree more," and went back to cuddling Jack.

Wilson held up two cigars and gestured at House. Cuddy saw the gesture and said, "You go ahead, we're good here."

House seemed hesitant to leave. "Sure, everyone clear out for a second, then when I'm done, I'll join Wilson for a quickie outside," he said, with an obvious wink.

House took Jack from his mother and put him down in the bassinet. Arlene calmly said to Blythe, "Care to walk down for coffee?"

Blythe looked surprised, and then said, "Certainly, thank you."

House agreed to meet Wilson in a few moments, and when everyone was out of the room, he leaned against the door and locked it. "You feeling OK? You seem tired."

"I am tired. But I'm fine," she answered.

"How bad's the pain?" he asked.

She smiled as she looked up at him, the concern in his voice obvious. "A little uncomfortable. No real pain. I'm just tired."

"I'll go hang with Wilson, the mothers will likely return soon…you rest, are you going to be OK?"

"Yes, I really will. I just want to sleep," Cuddy replied.

"Let me see your incision before I head out."

"No," she said, "everything's fine, I know what I'm looking at."

"You don't trust me?"

"Of course I trust you, it's just ugly and nasty and I can take care of it myself."

He sat next to her and pulled the pillow slowly away from her, where she had it clutched to her belly. "My god your breasts look amazing," he whispered, gently running a thumb along the side of one over her gown.

She giggled and rolled her eyes, "Great…I have that going for me."

He pulled the sheet down away from her and meticulously gathered the ends of her gown in his fingers and sat, patiently waiting for her consent. She nodded, hesitantly and he said, "You've seen my leg...before, during and after everything happened to it. You seem to like me anyway."

"It's not that…"

He looked at her with doubt before he slid the gown up and pulled away the loose covering that was over her incision. "No sign of infection…definitely looks irritated, look at the edges here, it's pulling. Be careful."

"I'll get my nap, this afternoon I have to start moving around again so some day we can get out of here."

"Oh…I dunno…we have a lock on the door…this place has everything we need…fresh linens, clean clothes, food, running water…we could make it work here," he said with a smile.

"We…could make it work anywhere," she smiled back as she settled down into the bed.

House got up to leave, peeking in the bassinet at Jack, and by the time he reached the door, Cuddy was snoring.

He found Wilson waiting outside of the Cuddy's hospital room and the two went to the roof. "What's happened here, House?" Wilson asked. "Two bachelors with Friday nights doing single guy things…and now look at us. I honestly thought…maybe someday I'd have a family…but you?"

"I didn't think I would either. I thought it was too late a long time ago."

"I'm so happy for you…still shocked it's_ you and Cuddy_…you guys are so…different than most couples."

"We've both never fallen from our sexual peaks."

"Right…" Wilson said, "You've both changed so much."

"Have we?" House asked.

"You don't see it? I mean…you're both…still you…just much less so."

"Or…more so," House countered, lighting his cigar.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Cuddy and I…are able to be who we are without worrying about being…destroyed. We're done defeating each other."

"Whatever it is…it is good. You guys have something other people want. Anyway…do you miss it?"

"My old life?" House asked. "Which part? We had some good times...we really spent a lot of time together, had a lot of fun. But …do I miss going to bed alone, waking up alone and wishing I was dead more often than I enjoyed being alive? Or do I miss the times when I'd have nothing to do but feel the pain in my leg while I was steeped in the belief that I actually _deserved_ to be miserable since I was such a terrible excuse for a human…I don't miss _those_ parts."

Wilson shared a wide grin, and toasted with his cup of coffee, "To the good life that we thought we were living…and to finding out that so much of what you fought against…is actually what you wanted all along."

House and Wilson chatted, reminiscing about pranks and games and the times when they were the only people in each other's lives. It was strange how far life had taken them from those times. After a little while, Wilson went back to work and House went to check on Cuddy.

When he walked into the hospital room, Cuddy was still sleeping, their mothers were in a corner, holding the baby and chatting contentedly, a sight that he never thought he'd see. The cease-fire between the two women seemed more like budding friendship which was, in its own way, a bit frightening. House realized: kids did strange things to people.

Blythe and House picked up Ava from preschool, the older woman overjoyed when Ava ran to give her a hug. They returned to the hospital where a steady stream of both gawkers and well-wishers offered House and Cuddy congratulations.


	108. Chapter 108

**A/N-**_2 items: 1-sorry this chapter is short…today and tomorrow are actually 1 chapter split into 2…the second half is an adult chapter…and it felt like it should be separate from this first half. Second half will be posted tomorrow.  
>2-I try to respect people's religious beliefs, hopefully I've done so. This chapter was on the "cutting room floor." I'd like to thank OldSFfan for hisher question…which made me decide to resurrect this piece of the story. _

_I'd like to thank all of the reviewers since the last installment: housebound, LoveMyHouse, JLCH, IHeartHouseCuddy, here, SissiCuddles, lenasti16, OldSFfan, alddi, partypantscuddy, ClareBear14, Bakerstreet Blues, KiwiClare, Mon Fogel, Abby, dmarchl, Alex and HuddyGirl.  
><em>

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><p>After four days in the hospital, Newton was prepared to send Cuddy home, but Jack was not yet ready. Becker came in to see the family, and <em>politely<em> chauffeur them out the door. Cuddy mentioned that she thought Medford would be coming in to see them later that day, and they preferred to remain as a family in the room they already occupied. She and House exchanged pleased glances as Becker scurried from the room. Cuddy's expression shifted a bit, "You know...when I was dean, I would have hated us too."

That night, when they were in the hospital bed, drifting off to sleep, Cuddy whispered, "Hey, House…I wanted to ask you something."

"What?" he asked, somewhat nervously, as he rubbed his thigh.

"Are we going to…have a bris for Jack?"

House's eyes popped open as he looked over at the bassinet at his son, almost as if he hoped the child wouldn't hear the topic of their discussion. "The pediatrician said he wanted to wait a few days because Jack was early…can't we just have him circumcised here…in a clean, sterile hospital."

Cuddy shrugged. "Look, I don't keep many traditions, I'd like to keep this one. But…if you oppose…I can deal with it. Just think about it."

House tried to close his eyes, but his mind was alert now, "Don't we have to do this within a couple of days?"

"We can delay…prematurity. I thought we could do it the day after he gets out of the hospital, as long as we get the green light from his pediatrician. If you are against it…"

"I didn't say I was _against _it. I don't know. Shouldn't we have talked about this before he was born?"

"I thought we had another month or so before he'd show up. I had no idea he'd be here so early. I was planning on bringing it up _before_ he was born."

House dropped back into the pillow, resting, "What about Ava?"

"Oh, sweetie," she teased, "Ava's a girl, little boys have penises, and girls…."

"I knew there was something different about him!" he interrupted drolly. "But seriously…does this mean we're raising one kid Jewish but not the other one?"

"You know I'm not devout. I just…wanted to do this. It's a nice tradition. I had the simchat bat for Rachel…an element of history…family."

"Yea well, I forgot, since I was non-invited. Well, invited…as a ploy, and then uninvited, and then…sort of, maybe invited…was that the sequence? We'll just call it _non-invited,_ since the intent was to have me not there."

"OK. Do you want to address that? That…was a different time and a very different place. I handled it…poorly. I readily admit that. I…didn't know what in the hell to do with you then…like…the myriad of other offenses I've committed, I truly regret that. I wish…we were what we are now…back then, but we weren't. In the end…I really wanted you to crash it."

"Lies."

"No…_that _is not a lie. I may have lied while I was floundering on what to do…no…I admit it…I absolutely _did_ lie. But that night, every time someone showed up, I wished it was you. I really did…want you there. I wanted you to be part of Rachel's life, but…the only time you ever held her you were eager to get rid of her. I…saw that as a pretty clear sign that you didn't want to be involved."

"She did throw up on me."

"You didn't want to hold her before that. And I thought you looked…so amazing holding a kid, and you hated every second of it."

"Because you were looking for some guy to be the perfect father, and I knew I was never going to be that."

"Never?"

"Never!" he responded, somewhat angrily.

"OK…_father of my children_…'never' seems a bit improbable now," she countered.

"I'm still not perfect, you've learned to accept less than perfection," he responded.

"You are as realistically close to perfect as you need to be, and you've learned to be OK with showing yourself." She let out a calming breath and added, "You sent some pretty clear signals that you didn't want to be involved."

He also took a calming breath, "Because I did…and I didn't…want to be involved. There was a lot of potential for me to get hurt there. And…a lot of potential for me to hurt someone else. I tried to do what was best…in the end, I respected your wishes…or …what I thought were your wishes. I stayed away."

"You…were the only man I wanted by my side…which…I guess means very little now…"

"It means something now," he conceded.

"We were very different then. With the way our relationship _was_…we were truly doomed to fail. This discussion never could have happened without one of us screaming and walking out…or shutting down."

"I know," he added, "from both sides."

"Look…if you really don't want to do the bris…I can accept that. I would like to do it…but…we're both the parents, and I don't want to force you into anything. Take some time, think about it. We can do it at Mom's, so we won't have everyone crawling around our house. If you don't want to do it, we'll have them do it medically here at the hospital."

"It's something we are going to get done anyway…so…if it's important to you that there is a ceremony involved…I can accept that."

"Really?"

"Yes. Although, I want you to know, they say _not_ having it done, can increase sensitivity. Don't you wish I had…increased sensitivity?" he asked impishly.

"Do you want…_increased_ sensitivity?" she asked skeptically.

"Who doesn't?"

"Well…I just… You seem to pride yourself on self-control…patience. I value those two things in your repertoire…if you were _more_ sensitive, you probably couldn't hold out as long," she shrugged. "I mean…I guess there isn't much we can do about it _now_ as far as you're concerned."

He squinted, and then grinned, "I didn't think of that…for someone without a penis you seem to know a lot."

"Oh, I have a penis," she countered, giggling as soon as she saw his expression.

"Is _that_ what that was?" he asked.

"I _have _a penis, it just happens to be _attached_ to you."

"Clever… And complimenting my abilities a moment ago. A bit of scheming?"

"It's not scheming. It's…convenient to my argument."

"You do have a good argument. I stand by my earlier statement, we can do it, we were going to anyway. However…I think it's unfair to have a welcoming-slash-naming ceremony for him, and not for our daughter. We're starting her off…telling her that he's your Jewish son and she's…some girl."

"What do you propose?"

"We have a…simchat bat-ish…naming ceremony for her…so she feels she's equal."

"Are you serious?" Cuddy asked, truly surprised.

"Of course."

"I thought you saw such things as hypocrisy?"

"I'm going to see it as a welcoming ceremony for each of them…it's part of their shared tradition as your children. Will they do it if her mother isn't Jewish?"

"Her mother is Jewish," Cuddy answered.

"_Monica Smith_…is Jewish?"

"You think 'Lisa Cuddy' is a common Jewish name?"

"Good point. Do you know, or are you guessing?"

"Nadia mentioned it. When we were doing paperwork for the adoption, there was a question on religion. She commented when she saw it."

"Then...I guess we're good."

"I think that's really sweet. I…love it. I really love it. Thank you!" she said taking his hand.

"Thank _you_." House leaned back to go to sleep. After several minutes, he popped his head back up, whispering to her, "Only you can make 'decreased sensitivity' sound like a good thing."

She chuckled as they fell asleep.

* * *

><p>For all of Jack's scrawniness, he certainly was tough. The doctors on staff originally suggested a nearly two week hospital stay, but after a week and a half, they decided he was ready. There was a brief scare when they thought he was losing a bit too much post-birth weight, but when he finally settled, his voracious appetite served him well. House, Blythe and Arlene worked together to clean up the house before the family got home. Blythe and Arlene volunteered to do it on their own, but the thought of the two women snooping through the master bedroom was a concept neither House nor Cuddy could stand.<p>

The day the family finally returned home, there was a definite sigh of relief. While it was wonderful that they could all stay together in the hospital, the room was becoming increasingly cramped. Ava was so excited to be home, when they opened the door, she ran through the living room back to her room, flopped on the bed a few times, and then ran back out through the living room again in gleeful circles. Blythe held Jack as his wide eyes watched his sister flutter around their home.

Their first night at home, House and Cuddy tucked themselves into bed for a comfortable night sleep in a padded, sprawling, king-size bed around midnight. At twelve-thirty, Jack was up. At one-thirty, Ava was up, followed by Jack again at two-fifteen. The two children see-sawed alertness throughout the night, ensuring that neither of the parents slept more than half-an-hour at a time. Around six, when both children finally settled down to sleep, House and Cuddy were finally drifting off, and he said, "Hey Cuddy, the kids are really great. I mean…I have no regrets…"

His statement hung in the air until she said, "But…"

"But…are you getting back on the pill…or what are we going to do there? Because once your 'down-time' is up…we aren't going to be thinking clearly enough to worry about it. The Duo of Evil could easily become the Trifecta of Doom."

"The pill?" she said, sounding shocked, "I figured we'd go for at least one more…hope for twins…"

He was perfectly still in their bed, hoping that it was a joke, but she didn't laugh. After what seemed like an eternity, he saw her shoulders shake, "You are so cruel," he snickered.

She turned, "I wanted to see your face but I knew if I looked at you I'd start laughing."

"You almost had me," he sighed, still sounding a bit nervous.

"We'll take precautions. I'm...very happy with the children we have. More...is too much. Much too much."

"I guess we should probably get you off of the pill soon though…with your age and all…"

"I slept about forty minutes last night…nonconsecutively. Let's wait until I get at least an hour of sleep before you start telling me I'm old."

"Yea."

"Wow, one night at home…and we're already begging for mercy," she chuckled.

* * *

><p>Later that morning, they got ready for their children's ceremonies at Arlene's place. House regretted agreeing to the whole thing from the beginning, but was determined to be on excellent behavior. He knew everyone thought that he'd do <em>something.<em> He figured there were bets placed, in fact, he also guessed that Chase was running a few pools on the matter.

When they got to Arlene's, she greeted both of her grandchildren, and introduced them to various family members. Wilson and Ann were there, Kate and Melanie, Chase, Celia, even Blythe was in attendance. It was a lot of people, in a small space. House hid while they waited for people to arrive, mostly talking to Ava, and of course Eddie, who was never too far away from wherever House was. "So…you gonna save your kid?" Eddie asked.

"No," House said, shaking his head.

"Aw come on…if any father would ever save his son from this, it would be you."

"Nope," House said. "He'll be fine."

"I won't do this to my kid," Eddie countered.

"If your future wife is Jewish…and she wants to do it…and you love her…you _probably_ will," House nodded. "You survived it."

House got up to find Cuddy, but Arlene intercepted him, "Just one…_small_ request, Greg."

"What's that?"

Arlene covered Ava's ears and whispered, "I just remembered…the last time you were here…and since this is a religious ceremony…and my home is filled with people, can you please try to avoid having sex with my daughter in her former bedroom."

"OK," he nodded, trying to hide the surprise in his eyes. "I promise I won't have sex with your daughter…today in your home."

"Thank you," she said, with a knowing smirk.

"If I can't have my Cuddy…what are _you_ doing later?" he teased.

Arlene Cuddy was so taken by surprise, that she actually laughed. It was a real, genuine laugh, and she let go of her granddaughter's ears for a moment, and then covered them again, "What an asshole!" she said, still laughing.

Jack survived his bris better than some of those around him, although he did scream, and when he screamed, House was every bit as horrified as he thought he'd be. His head swam for a second, and when it stopped swimming, he heard a very familiar sound, a person who was far more horrified: Ava.

She certainly couldn't see anything from her vantage point, but she heard her brother's protest quite clearly. She was filled with all of the rage of a very overprotective big sister, in a tiny, three-year-old body. Eddie was holding her at the time, although when she started to scream in rage, House went over and took her. He thought, briefly, about allowing the little girl to unleash her ire on the perpetrator, but then decided against it.

House successfully calmed her down, patiently trying to convince her that Jack was just fine. When the ceremony was over, and Jack was calm again, House showed Ava that her brother was OK, and after a few minutes of seeing him, acting normally, she seemed convinced. House sat in the corner with the two kids and Cuddy came up, reached out her hands, and said to Ava, "OK, your turn sweetie."

It was the wrong thing to say. The last "turn" she saw, was her brother's, and as far as she was concerned, whatever those strangers in strange clothes did to her brother, made him _scream. _

She turned to House her eyes wide, and wrapped her arms around his neck and said, "Daddy, no!"

She never called him 'daddy'.

"It's OK, Ava, this was my idea," he began.

She sat back suddenly, eyes filled with dread, and began to weep. "No, listen," House said, "It's not the same thing. You won't cry. It won't hurt at all, seriously!"

Cuddy took Jack from House, so he could turn all of his attention to calming his panicking daughter.

He finally did calm her enough to get her to participate in the ceremony, although in every single picture taken that day, from that moment on, she clung to him as best as she could. The one person who didn't want to be in an abundance of pictures, was in nearly all of them. People later commented that it was sort of endearing, seeing the exchanges between the two of them. One of Cuddy's aunts, House couldn't remember her name, said to him, sweetly, "After all, this is about family. What could possibly be wrong with a little girl wanting to be with her father."

After the ceremonies were over, and a great deal of food was shared, Chase found House, sitting on the porch swing, with the two children. House definitely looked more weary than either of the kids. Chase said calmly, "A lot of people lost a lot of money today. Most people believed you'd take the boy and run, or at least voice your protest enough to publicly horrify Cuddy."

House nodded. "Maybe I should have."

"No, you did the right thing…I had my money on good behavior," he said, handing House an envelope filled with cash. "I was the only one. Here's your cut."

House told the attentive children stories, swinging on the porch, refusing to go back inside. Cuddy came outside, looking for him, and sat next to him on the swing. He finally said, "Brilliant friggin idea I had. Traumatized both of them…all within a half an hour."

"Honestly…it was nice. She loves you...it showed. It was a really wonderful idea. This meant something to me…thank you. Besides, the bris was technically my idea…you can blame that on me," she offered, leaning into his arm.

"Thanks," he replied dryly. "When they're old enough…I'm taking them to see monster trucks…you…aren't going to give me a hard time…right? That's…my tradition."

"No problem," Cuddy said, smiling at the three of them lovingly.

"You're coming too?"

"Definitely."


	109. Chapter 109

**A/N**-_OK guys…3 chapters left… here ya go! _

_Thanks to all who read and those who left a comment: IW, OldSFfan, Bakerstreet Blues, LoveMyHouse, newsession, housebound, JLCH, Little Greg, lenasti16, Boo's House, IHeartHouseCuddy, jkarr, southpaw2, ClareBear14, Way Worse Than Scottish, LapizSilkwood, SissiCuddles, Mon Fogel, dmarchl, KiwiClare, alddi, partypantscuddy, IWuvHouse, Abby, HuddyGirl, Alex and Josam.  
><em>

**Disclaimer**-_I don't own the characters of House, MD. This chapter includes adult content, if you don't want to read that, skip the first section to the line break_

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><p>When they left the hospital, House and Cuddy had three more weeks to abstain from sex, at the strong recommendation of their doctor. The first week and a half at the hospital, were easy, they were exhausted, in cramped quarters, with no privacy. The second two weeks at home were far more exhausting. Once they were home, it was very easy to forget about anything that wasn't critical for survival. Ava's schedule was a bit off with all of the changes, and Jack seemed to be under the impression that two hours of sleep at a time was the perfect amount.<p>

At the beginning of the third week, almost as if they had mutually agreed to end their relentless assault on sleep, the Duo of Evil slept remarkably well. Ava slept all night, Jack was only up once, and House and Cuddy snored the night away. They woke up feeling more alert than they had in a very long time.

Cuddy had her leg flung over House's hip, like she did most nights, but she started to wiggle, just a little, as she stretched. Her abdomen was still tender, and she was half asleep, so the movements were definitely subtle, but House's newly rested body responded exactly as it would have in all of the days before children. Without even being completely awake, his hand slid along her ass, feeling her body, warm and silky next to him, and in almost an instant his libido woke up as if it had never been muted.

She moaned, softly, more with breath than with voice, and together they pulled her up onto him. He lifted his hips from the bed, just to press into the weight of her, to feel the familiar heaviness of her on him. They both groaned softly in unison, and they were awake, fully, minds and bodies feeling rushes of sensation they had _almost_ forgotten about, but came thundering to life again. "We can't," House mumbled. "Soon."

She leaned over him to feel their bodies pressed together again, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist to pin her to him, burying his face against her neck. After the last few months of pregnancy, it felt remarkably good just to be that close. She slid her hand between their bodies to touch him and he grabbed her wrist. "Nope," he said, "both of us or neither of us."

"We can work around this," she said, seductively, the sound of her voice sending shivers down his spine, "You heard the rules, just because you can't be inside me doesn't mean we can't…"

They were interrupted when they heard Jack's shrill morning cry pierce the air, and she dropped her head onto House's shoulder. "We may be able to work around the rules…but you-know-who has other plans," he said, kissing her lips quickly before she removed herself from him and went to take care of the baby.

House took Ava to school, and it was one of the first days that no one was at their house. Blythe had gone home, but was returning for an extended stay in a few weeks' time after taking care of business. Cuddy put Jack down for a nap and sat next to House on the sofa. So often, during the previous two weeks, they'd frantically head for a nap as soon as the baby was sleeping, desperate for even an hour's rest.

They were sitting there, lulling, enjoying the breeze through the patio door, a bit of time just to themselves. Cuddy was leaning against him, still relaxed in her nightie, and his hand was lovingly trailing along her side, disconnected, content, and then he kissed the top of her head. She leaned up and kissed his jaw, innocently. She rolled so she was facing him, just looking at him, enjoying a moment together. He had a peaceful, distant look on his face that she found endearing, so she kissed his chin. He looked down at her, smiling at him, and sweetly placed a kiss over her lips and hooked an arm under her to pull her up to him, so she was sitting on his lap.

A second later, as if a switch was flipped, the mood shifted from innocent admiration, to one of need and desire. She moved her leg so she was straddling him, and pressed her lips more fully against his, tugging on his lower lip, at first easily, and then with more urgency. Her heart skipped quickly, thudding against her ribs, the moment the tip of his tongue flicked against her lip and then slid, just slightly, into her mouth. Her fingers, delicate and soft, traced along his ear, and down along his neck, following the curve of his jaw, so she was holding his face to her.

His hands slowly followed down her back from her shoulders, trying to appreciate each feeling that touching her produced. His hands settled on the small of her back, holding her to him for a few moments before following the curve of her hips down her thighs to her knees.

Her fingers were tickling along the back of his neck while they kissed more passionately, tasting and refamiliarizing themselves with each other. Her one hand remained along his neck, the other moved to his chest, pressing against his ribs. Her hips rocked, slightly, just enough to provide the slightest friction against him. When she moaned into his mouth, he pushed up toward her, on instinct, unable to stop himself from seeking pleasure, from fulfilling the need when his body immediately knew how. He turned away from her mouth and whispered, "I'm trying to stop this."

She sighed and resumed kissing him, ignoring his efforts. His hands left her hips to hold her breasts, so full and beautiful, and he softly licked and nipped at each one after he pulled her shirt up over them. She responded by pressing more firmly down onto him, and when he looked up into her eyes, into the little grin that played on her lips, he saw the same confident, sexy, irresistible woman he always saw. He figured he would see it, but he wasn't sure if she would _feel_ that way. With that concern crossed off his list, he studied her, the need and lust in her eyes. She felt as wanted, as desired, as she ever had been, possibly more, because he looked like he truly _needed_ her. Her hips started circling in his lap and his hands left her breasts to hold her hips still, "Stop," he said, his voice serious and firm.

She lowered her head to his shoulder, and he thought she was surrendering, until she began to nip at his shoulder, like she would often when she'd climax, and the memories along with the sensations made him swell with arousal.

"Fuck that's…that's not fair, Cuddy," he breathed, finding his hips lifting slightly from the sofa again, his awareness of his behavior not sufficiently powerful to stop him from continuing.

"I want you," she breathed into his ear, "I want you so badly, please…let me get you off. I _need_ this."

House made a sound that sounded almost like a chuckle when he breathed out. "I'm waiting for you. Let me wait for you."

"You sure you can wait?" she asked, luring him in, "You feel…so hard…so ready for me. It _feels_ like you want me."

"You know I want you," he said, before capturing her lips again in a deep kiss, both because he desperately wanted them to connect somehow, and because he wanted her to stop using words, in addition to sights and sensations, to overwhelm him with desire. Kissing her certainly didn't help to suppress his desire, and he felt his body drowning in need.

She broke the kiss, shimmying out of her panties, and returning to him, "You aren't being selfish if I'm begging you, House."

"Are you begging?" he asked through a haze of lust, still lightly pushing upward to meet her hips when they rocked on him.

"Definitely. Please…touch me."

His hands slid along her thighs, stopping just short of their goal, his thumbs scant centimeters away from meeting her need. "You can get me off without being inside of me, right?" she asked with a slower rock of her hips.

His fingers reached up over her legs, along the crease of her thighs, his thumbs skimming over her slit. She moaned, softly, trying to stay quiet. She was so warm and wet and he felt as if his entire body throbbed, wanting to be buried inside her, knowing that, when he could finally find his way back to her like that, the feelings would be as intensely erotic as he imagined. She moved back from him just enough to unzip his pants and take him in her hands. She wasn't shy or patient, she covered him with both hands, stroking and caressing, giving him an amazing hand job. He tended to forget how good she was at doing that, since they so often opted for other forms of gratification, but that stolen contact was illicit and unexpected and completely erotic. They were inches away from being joined, he could _feel_ the heat from her arousal on his, although they weren't in contact, their hands busily pleasing the other, and he twitched harder when he realized that if he could just pick her up and pull her forward about three inches, she could press down and he could thrust up and he's be lost inside her. Then, he did his best for forget how close he was to being there.

When her orgasm began, she let go of him with one hand, moving it to his shoulder to balance herself, the other still touching him. He was able to watch every motion and quiver from her like this. Her hand slowed and he found himself still thrusting up into it, needing the release. She moved off of him and he whimpered softly, and dropped his head back, trying to remain patient, thinking she needed a moment, but in the next second he felt her mouth on him, both hands fondling him, and after all of the buildup, the combination of sensations brought him to his own orgasm quickly.

"Oh my god…I feel so much better!" she sighed, as she cuddled against his side.

He chuckled a little, trying to slow his breath, "Are you sure you're OK?" he asked.

"Hell yea," she sighed. "I can't wait until next week…"

"I was trying to be considerate," he said sternly.

"I know…I'm needy…and…horny…"

He laughed a bit, "I'm so glad you are both of those things."

* * *

><p>The night before Ava's adoption, when they slept, House heard a noise. There were doors, opening and closing, feet in the halls, loud feet, walking through their home. He felt Cuddy next to him, realizing that it couldn't be her moving around, and he rose. He was able to stand without help, without first soothing the ache in his leg, and walked, easily out into the hall. There were men in uniform, lining the halls, blocking the doors. There was a man standing far away, at the end of the hall, one he knew instantly, although he couldn't see the face. House's eyes followed the man's silhouette, down to his shoulders and followed the line of his arm to his hand. Delicately holding his hand was Ava, who turned to look over her shoulder and waved at House. When the man turned, House saw the smirking scowl of his father, who had Ava's hand tightly, and Jack, slung casually, lovelessly, against his chest.<p>

House knew what would happen, he had this dream for weeks during his rare moments of sleep, but he couldn't stop himself from trying. Trying to get there. The first pairs of uniformed men would hold him back, and he'd break through, somewhat easily, with all of the strength of his youth. The second pair of uniformed men, bigger, stronger, more brutish, he'd fight them, making it through, but barely. Each pair of guards would become subsequently more difficult, and his body more tired. By the last set of guards, he'd find himself old and crippled, much worse than in life. He'd always find himself, mere inches away, and on the last pair of guards, he'd realize he was too weary and infirmed to continue. His leg would give out, he'd collapse on the floor and the two men would smirk down at him. He'd always see Ava, waving sweetly, hanging onto his dad's hand.

His dad would always say, just as they reached the elevator, "You didn't _really _think that they'd let you keep these kids, did ya? A junkie, a criminal, a woman-beater, like you? Fine, upstanding men of honor like me…we're the types of men that should be raising children. Raising them to learn _respect_. Teaching them through _discipline_."

House would wake up, just then, covered in sweat, his heart racing in his chest. He hated the feeling, the sick, helpless, tired feeling he'd have after that dream. After so many dreams.

Cuddy stirred next to him, "You dreaming again?" she asked, hugging him in near sleep.

"Yea," he answered.

"Tomorrow…the hearing will be over. You won't have to worry any more."

As he did every night when he had this dream, he went down the hall, checked on each of his sleeping children, and returned to bed.


	110. Chapter 110

**A/N** -_Regarding abstinence and c-sections…still supposed to wait anywhere from 4-6 weeks, from the 5 people I polled who've had them. The legal stuff here mirrors my personal experience…laws differ from state to state, and I'm not a lawyer…or a judge…This fic has taught me a lot about what I'm not!_

_Thank you to all of the reviewers- JLCH, IHeartHouseCuddy, lenasti16, SissiCuddles, dmarchl21, alddi, Boo's House, Suzieqlondon, partypantscuddy, TheHouseWitch, Bakerstreet Blues, RedTulipAna, ClareBear14, CaptainK8, Mon Fogel, KiwiClare, Alex, Abby, HuddyGirl, Love My House, Josam, and Lots of "Guest" reviewers…they only list you as "Guest" now, instead of with the names I used to see for Anonymous reviews, so I can't mention you specifically._

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><p>House dressed both kids in the morning while Cuddy showered. Cuddy bought a frilly, light yellow dress for Ava to wear, and when he pulled it over the girl's head, she looked down at it with contempt. "S'itchy," she said.<p>

"I know," he answered.

Jack was on a blanket next to them, making gurgles and babbles and trying to figure out how to control his developing body. House reached for her shoes and when he looked at her, she looked miserable. "What do _you_ want to wear?" House asked her.

She opened her drawer and found a black shirt, with three hearts: purple, pink and green, that looked like they were painted on the front. He looked at her, and then back at the shirt. "I like it," he answered, nodding, "It's your day, and that shirt…it's definitely you."

House nodded her over to him, unbuttoned the scratchy dress, and helped her pull it over her head. He nodded his agreement when he felt the scratchy, lacy fabric, and tossed the dress on the rocker nearby.

When Cuddy got out of the shower, he shouted to the next room, tentatively, "That dress…it was too itchy…she picked something else…"

"Something clean?" Cuddy shouted.

"Yea."

"Is it wrinkled?" she asked.

"Umm…nope," he answered.

"OK," she answered, and he could hear the accepting shrug in her voice.

House looked at Ava, still surprised with Cuddy's ability to let go of things that at one time she would have clung to steadfastly. He was shocked, but found it more amusing that Ava really had no concept of Cuddy as anything other than the woman, the mother, she knew in that moment.

When Cuddy was dressed, professionally, a bit conservatively for her, she joined him in Ava's room. "She looks adorable," Cuddy said, kissing Ava's head.

House was pale, sweating even while sitting there. Cuddy knelt down with all of them and said to House, "Today…is a good day. The pardon came through, the paperwork is done, and we're set. This is a formality. We answer a few questions. If there was a problem, Winchell would know. Knowing Winchell, she'd probably fricassee and consume anyone who got in the way."

House smirked for a moment, but the smile fell quickly. "If anyone needs to find us, they'll know where to look," he said somberly.

"_No one._..is coming to take her," Cuddy whispered, so Ava couldn't hear. "We can do this. You aren't a criminal. This isn't a trial…it's an adoption. You're just a dad…who wants to keep his daughter. That's it." she said, kissing his cheek. "Do you want to get a shower before we go?" she asked.

He looked down at the tee shirt that was sticking to his skin. "Yea, I better," he smiled.

When he was done showering, she found him, wearing dress pants, still anxious. "House," she said taking his face in her hands, "it _will_ be fine."

"And if it isn't?"

"Then we're going all Bonnie and Clyde on them. We grab the kids, and we run. But that will not happen."

"Bonnie and Clyde had a crappy ending."

"_We_ are smarter than they were…so we're a more intelligent, so much sexier…so much cooler…version of Bonnie and Clyde."

He smiled down at her.

"You look…really uncomfortable. You could wear the black jeans if that helps, the new ones, you can't even tell they're jeans," she said.

"I'm wearing the suit," he answered.

He said, 'the suit' because he only had one, the same one he wore when they got married. "You're sweating already, I'd wait on the jacket," she said, patting his chest as she walked past.

* * *

><p>When they arrived at the courthouse, he was still nervous, and Cuddy was relatively certain he was looking around for a cop or Youth and Family Services advocate, anyone who might be coming to collect Ava. He was on the lookout, searching for clues to warn him if anything was about to go wrong. She carried Jack and he carried Ava and they walked up the stony steps to the entrance.<p>

The four of them went into the courthouse, meeting Nadia inside the door. Nadia greeted them warmly, and was already offering congratulations. They went through metal detectors and searches, where guards checked House's cane for hidden weapons, and it felt just a bit too reminiscent of prison for House's liking. After they got through, they found the courtroom. It was small, at the end of a long series of doors, leading to other courtrooms. House knew, behind some of the doors, cases were being presented, divorces granted, fines imposed, and someone was probably receiving a jail sentence.

Kate met them there, available as a character witness, should one be needed, Arlene was also there. These two were expected. What House didn't expect was Medford and Blythe. Medford paid for a plane ticket so that Blythe could come for the occasion, after the two spoke when she visited the hospital after Jack was born. When they entered the courtroom, the family of four made their way to the front table, where Winchell was waiting, as calculating and proper as always, every move efficient, precise, and necessary. Kate took Jack, so they could avoid unnecessary interruptions should he need attention during the proceedings.

The same judge they met when Ava's mother terminated parental rights presided over the session. Both parents did testify. Cuddy went first, hoping to sooth House's fears. She stated her name, their full intention and desire to keep Ava as their own, to be a family. She listened while the judge informed her that, if the court found their petition acceptable, they would be the legal parents of Ava, that she would receive all the benefits of inheritance, that she would be, in every way, their daughter. They would be fully responsible legally, financially and physically for her care. All of the rights, responsibilities and privileges of parenthood would be bestowed upon them. Cuddy smiled at House from the stand, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and he remembered the last time he watched her from a bench in a courtroom as she testified. Of course then, he sat on the other side of the room.

The judge excused Cuddy, and called House to the stand. It was a formality largely, he tried to reassure himself. He just wanted to avoid saying something flippant or arrogant to the judge, because, in his nervous state, it would be so easy to snap at a question. When he sat down, he stated his name, he also confirmed his intent and desire to adopt Ava, to make her part of her family. The judge, kinder to him now than she had been in the previous meeting, went over the same legalities she went over with Cuddy. House nodded accordingly, answered appropriately, and waited for something horrible to happen.

When the judge excused him from the stand, he hesitated, confused that the experience was less painful than he anticipated. He shrugged, gripped his cane firmly in hand, and rose when the judge gestured for him to leave.

The judge did speak to Ava, but allowed the child to remain seated at the table. She looked so tiny, sitting on the large, wooden captain's chair behind what is often the plaintiff's table, her head barely reaching the armrests, sneaker clad feet rocking back and forth on the seat. The judge leaned forward, "Ava?"

"Yea," the girl answered, a bit weary of the stranger.

"Would you like to live with these two people?"

"Who them?" she asked, pointing at House and Cuddy.

"Yes."

"Well…yea," Ava said.

"Do you want them to be your parents? Would you be OK with that?"

The three-year-old crossed her arms across her belly, and tilted her head, looking so much like Cuddy, bringing out the eye roll, and said in perfect House 'duh' intonation, "They _are _my parents, and that's my brother."

The judge suppressed a smirk at the precocious child and nodded her head. "We have a petition for the change of the last name as well," Winchell said, handing the judge the paperwork.

The judge looked it over, "Everything's in order. It's clear to me, that this family…is intact. This child has found the home where she belongs. This court is…pleased when we can find parents so eager to welcome a child into their home. The petition for adoption has been granted…"

House looked at Cuddy, and she could see, so obviously, that he could barely contain his shock. The nervous pall that had surrounded him for days before the hearing, but more obviously during the previous twenty-four hours, lifted as if it had never been there. Neither of them heard the remaining words. There was a gavel pound, an expression of well-wishes from the judge and the next thing he knew, Cuddy swooped up Ava and the two females were hugging him. He couldn't believe it. There was no last minute objection, no change of heart from the biological mother, no hidden charges against him that he didn't know about, no ominous shadowy figure deeming him unfit. The dreams, the concerns and worries, and…absolutely nothing horrible happened. Ava…was theirs.

Cuddy was relieved to see his stress eased. Seeing him like that, almost as he was during some of his most difficult moments, was hard for her to witness, but she had the opportunity to be a strong, steady presence in his life as he dealt with those fears. Never belittling him for having fears, he allowed her to see those vulnerabilities, so she knew the reasons behind his moods. Fight, after potential fight, would be prevented as a result of that one change alone.

They faced their concerns as a pair, when problems neared them, they approached with solidarity, surmounting the concerns, and then descending from tension together as well.

Medford treated the family to a lavish dinner, brought to their home, where they celebrated with an intimate gathering. House pulled Medford to the side, "Thank you," he said earnestly, "I don't know if this would have happened without you."

"You're welcome," Medford said, "I'm sure your father was very proud of your accomplishments."

House made a face, the words seeming too bizarre to be spoken aloud. "Umm…" House began.

"Say no more," Medford interrupted, "I know my timing is…perhaps not the best, but…your mother…she is…widowed."

"My Mom?" House asked.

"Yes. I'm certainly not trying to be rude…but, your mother and I had a nice dinner when I picked her up at the airport…she's quite charming."

"You…want to ask out my mother?"

"I was considering it"

"That's…up to her. Not me," House said, trying not to be amused by the image of Medford, a tiny man, dancing with his much taller mother.

"Excellent," said Medford, "I can guarantee you, I'm well-intentioned."

House nodded, squinting one eye, now feeling very uncomfortable, "You…work out the details with Mom, I'm…gonna stay out of it."

Medford nodded with a near smile.

House continued, "I did…have a new venture to discuss with you, when you have time…"

* * *

><p>As things calmed, Kate left, and Medford offered to drive Blythe to her hotel, Arlene had left an hour earlier. Cuddy put Ava to bed that night, and House tended to Jack. They switched which child they tucked in each night, part of their promises to each spend some time specifically with each child on a regular basis. They really did want to be good parents, each seeing their own mistakes as monumental atrocities and often down-playing the severity of the other's missteps.<p>

When House turned on the monitor in Jack's room and went to their bedroom, he found Cuddy, packing a suitcase. He felt a flash of concern, "What's wrong?"

She looked up from the suitcase slowly, "Wrong? Absolutely nothing."

House wordlessly asked what in the hell she was doing with a suitcase and she answered, "We're going to the beach. Let's get the hell away from here for a few days."

"All of us?"

"No, I'm just sending you and your girlfriends away for a few days…you deserve it," she teased.

"Which girlfriend?" he replied.

"I didn't know which one you wanted, so I called all of them."

"No…not _all_ of the girlfriends _again_…they're so needy."

Cuddy giggled at him, "You _are_ entirely irresistible…"

"And…" he interrupted.

She shoved him back on the bed, "And…Intriguing. Sexy. Brilliant…"

She crawled up his body, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding against him. "Don't forget…_really_ hung…" he added.

She smirked, raised an eyebrow and continued, "well-endowed…sensitive, caring…"

"Hey!" he complained, "don't say that mushy crap…I won't be able to perform."

She wiggled her hips against him, testing him, "You feel like you'll be OK to me," she said, squinting the accusation.

"How about I ditch the girlfriends…and I'll stick with the old wifey," he suggested. "She has…experience…and she's hella hotter than the new ones…I mean ridiculously sexy. Best ass I've ever held on to."

Cuddy shook her head in disbelief. "With that sort of mushy flattery, _I_ may not be able to perform," she teased as he smirked.

Freed from the worries of the adoption, and the medical restrictions from childbirth, they had sex as many times as they could within the time they had, unwilling to stop touching each other, feeling a sense of freedom that they hadn't in quite some time. When they finished their first round, Cuddy said, "We better get some rest."

"Yea, you're right," House answered, palming her ass.

"After all, the kids will be up and we'll be tired…we have to drive…"

Her chest was still rising and falling pretty rapidly and he was watching the way her body moved against his. He smirked at her as he rolled her onto her back, and began kissing along her ribs to her breast. "Ya know…" he started, "There are two of us…"

She sighed as his tongue teased her nipple, "Yes…"

"So, we could…alternate shifts…"

"Shifts? So…you want to jerk off…and then wake me and I'll get off…and then repeat a few times?" she joked, "OK, that doesn't sound like as much fun as what _I _wanted to do, but…"

He laughed, "Not quite. I was thinking we could have…more sex…together…at the same time…and in the morning…I'll get up with them so you can sleep…and then I can sleep in the car on the way to the shore…if you drive. Just this once…we could do that…couldn't we?"

Just as his fingers crept to the top of her left thigh she said, "That'll work," and enthusiastically greeted his suggestion.

* * *

><p>They were exhausted in the morning, but far too happy to mind. They drove to the beach, the reality of travelling with a three-year-old and an infant a bit more complicated than they anticipated. Between potty breaks and diapers, bottles and snacks, the trip took about twice as long as it should have, but they couldn't seem to stop smirking at each other.<p>

Jack's toes touched the sand and the water for the first time before retreating to the shade beneath the wide beach umbrella. Ava hopped waves, and laughed hysterically at a fleeing sand crab. She was less than thrilled about the mouthful of saltwater she had when a wave was a bit higher than anticipated. House built sand castles with tanks to stand guard and she used pieces of shells to create fences and armor.

That evening, the children exhausted and snoring, House and Cuddy sat in front of the patio door at their ocean front hotel room, listening to the water.

"It's like the Outer Banks," House mused.

"That was…so awesome. Sad at times…really sad…but getting to know you again. Hearing you laugh for…really the first time…the way you were…so there for me…put up with my ranting and crying and mourning."

House looked down, still a bit uncomfortable with her compliments, and feeling like she probably gave him more credit than he was due. "You put up with my fears and moods, a lot more recently," he replied.

"I don't _put up_ with anything. I'm where I want to be," she answered.

"Cuddy…I want us to run away…"

She sighed, as she often did and hummed, "OK, where do you want to go?"

"No…I mean, _really_. I want us to go. I want to be far away from here. Away from where Ava was abused, away from Princeton-Plainsboro and Penn, far away from…the street where I was arrested, the places where I went crazy, the…spots where you looked at me with so much hurt in your eyes, the places where I felt all of that hurt myself. I don't want them to grow up to rumors about how their old man plowed into their mother's home in a jealous rage, or…stories about how we hated each other…"

"No one will be telling those stories. We don't hate each other."

"But…stories like ours…resurface. The kids will hear about them. That's not how I want to be seen. I don't want them to see me as some crazed abuser when I've tried so hard not to be that guy."

"I think their everyday interactions with you, will teach them that you aren't," Cuddy said reassuringly.

He nodded, his face appearing a bit disappointed. "I think a fresh start for all of us would be wonderful."

"Where do you want to go?" she asked with genuine interest.

"I…was thinking somewhere warm. Between the two of us we have plenty of money…but, I talked to Medford…about…setting up a diagnostics place. A bit of research. Maybe see the most severe clients, let Chase and Wilson and the new team have the rest. Not a ton of work. A few cases a year. Medford would fly out the serious cases, I'm sure. And…I can't stop…thinking about all of my old cases. I'm thinking about…putting them together…maybe following up with some of the patients. I'm guessing a lot of them won't talk to me…but they might talk to you."

"I'd think a lot of people whose lives you saved, would be willing to overlook your…sometimes less than fluffy bedside manner…to discuss their health with the person responsible for the fact that they're still alive to discuss it. Are you thinking…a book?"

"Diagnostics text. Next generation might be interested in what we already figured out."

"That's a really interesting idea."

"I can…be around…be a dad…have time with you…the next couple of years are going to go by so fast…"

"That they will. But. I need a job, House. I can't just…sit."

"No…I mean…if you're willing, I'd like you to handle some of the operations, and be my team. Like what we were doing here…without Becker or Simpson…just us. Although I'm certain this will come as a complete shock to you…I wasn't the best record keeper. It would be nice to have someone to help me weed through patient files…try to piece everything together again."

"What about school…for the kids?" she asked.

"We can find a school wherever we're at. If we can't…we'll hire tutors to fill in the gaps…we'll find a school."

"We'd be on our own…"

"That's the idea!"

"I mean…no support…no help with the kids…no Wednesday night love affairs…"

"I have an idea about that too…" He said knowingly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**-ok…so a little cliffy-ish…but not in a mean way…indulge me with that one more time. I know some people really want this story to continue. I wouldn't mind, but I don't want to write if I don't have good stuff to go with (I plan far ahead). Here's what I'll do...I need to finish the other story in my head, I know some of you are already reading it, and I thank you for your interest. When I'm done with that, if there's still enough interest, I'll write a little sequel to follow this one...with the same OC's and same _universe, _ as they say. OK?


	111. Chapter 111

**A/N**-_Thank you to all of you who reviewed since the last installment-JLCH, tori, SissiCuddles, housebound, alddi, Jane Q. Doe, Lapiz Silkwood, IHeartHouseCuddy, Boo's House, southpaw2, 6cbrilhante, Bakerstreet Blues, OldSFfan, justlobe, ClareBear14, KiwiClare, partypantscuddy, Little Greg, Abby, Alex, lenasti16, dmarchl, HuddyGirl and all of the Guest reviewers_

_Final Author's Note at the end!_

* * *

><p>Kate and Melanie returned to the home they shared late after dinner one evening, looking forward to a quiet evening of romance. Kate went to the kitchen for a bottle of wine and Melanie walked to the fireplace and lit two candles on the mantle.<p>

"When I came for dinner I had no idea there'd be a show!" House said, through a full mouth, as Melanie screamed.

Kate came running into the living room, "Oh, hey, House," Kate said calmly.

House was sitting in their recliner, feet up, with a container of leftovers from their previous night's meal in his lap.

"How did you get in here?" Mel said, scowling at Kate for her relaxed acceptance of the intruder.

"Key?" he asked.

"You answered a question with a question," Mel replied.

"Did I?" he continued.

Mel smirked at him, then Kate, "I'm gonna go shower, so you can chat."

After Mel was gone, House said, "Are you in trouble?"

"Nope," Kate said, "she knows you're part of the package. Trust me, I'm worth it."

House smirked before taking a few more bites.

"Is everything OK?" Kate asked. "Need a break from the wife and kids?"

"Everything's fine," he said, "I just told Cuddy I wanted to hang out, so she put the Duo to bed for me…gave me the night off. I'll give her the night off tomorrow, but she'll probably do something lame…like visit her _sister_."

Kate sat down on the chair next to his. "You wanna do something? I'm sure Mel wouldn't mind a few hours to herself."

"I'm pretty sure Mel wasn't rooting for a few hours by herself when she lit candles…"

"She'll understand if I want to hang out for an hour or two, you're busy now, so I have to take you when I can. What do you want to do?"

"What do you know about…real estate?" House asked.

"Ummm…very little."

"I found something interesting. Since we're in business together already, although admittedly I've been a less than active business partner as of late, I was wondering if you'd be interested in opening another establishment."

"Where's it at?"

"It's a _bit_ farther than your current one."

"Jersey?" Kate asked.

"No."

"How long does it take to get there?"

"With or without SCUBA gear?" House asked, dropping a few pages he printed out from his computer in her lap.

Kate stared at the paper for a moment and then looked up at him. "This…is amazing. You're kidding!"

"Not kidding."

"You trying to get rid of me or something?" Kate joked.

"Not exactly," he said, walking around behind her and dropping a map in her lap. "This, is where that lovely bar is. And…this…is where I want Medford to build my diagnostics clinic. And…this…is where I want them to build Chez House. I understand…if you translate that…it sounds a little redundant…but work with me."

"You're moving?" Kate said, sounding sad.

"Do you really want to stay here?" he asked. "I mean…I get the whole…girlfriend thing…and I get that if she doesn't want to come, that may be a deal breaker. But, I want to be here," he pointed to the map. "Cuddy wants to be here. The kids…well…they don't really care, but…"

Kate stared at him for a moment, and he could see her thinking. "You want me to come?"

"I need someone to watch the kids, so I can keep cheating on my wife," he said calmly.

She nodded, knowing the true reasons behind his suggestion and never expecting him to say more. And then he surprised her. "You are my friend. You stood by me. You let me stand by you. You told me to get off my ass and go after Cuddy…which…I wouldn't ordinarily do. But because I have you…I have Cuddy…because I have Cuddy…I have the Duo…because I want to enjoy all of the aforementioned things…I want to live there…so I can enjoy them. It would heighten my living experience…if you were there too."

Kate nodded and grinned, "Let me talk to Mel."

"Call me tomorrow, I gotta go see what Celia's up to."

* * *

><p>A few months later, Cuddy was flying around their home, gathering, boxing, bubble wrapping. Jack and Ava were with Kate, so that House and Cuddy could ready the remaining items for their move the next morning. "House…" Cuddy called from the bedroom, "Do you want these records, or are you leaving them here?"<p>

"Leave them here, so they don't get broken. I copied them," he said, as he watched her scurry around. "Cuddy, we have what we need. We have the kids' stuff, some clothes …what else do we need?"

"I just don't want to forget anything," she insisted.

"We'll be back in a few months to see Wilson's latest addition. Anything we forget, we can get then. It's not like we're selling the place." She ran past him. "It will all be here…safe and sound," he insisted. "But yet, you go hurricaning around here…again."

He laughed as he watched her fury. "Cuddy…it's Wednesday night. What we haven't already packed, isn't that important."

She ran past him again, but stopped right in front of him. "OK, just take one more look around, and make sure anything you want is packed."

He looked around haphazardly, clearly not paying attention, while she watched him with a look that lacked amusement. "Found it!" he yelled, loudly, as he picked her up and turned around to face the bed. He sat her inside the suitcase on top of piles of already packed clothes. "All done," he said with a self-satisfied grin. "Do you think we can get it shut?"

She was trying not to laugh, unsuccessfully. "They'll come ship the boxes out tomorrow. We'll take our luggage…and us, and we're good."

He had a mischievous grin that she had so much trouble saying no to, and by that point in their relationship, he knew that. "Now," he said, "I thought the whole point in having affairs was to have hot sex with a person that you don't have to face day-to-day problems with. You are breaking the rules by worrying about...stuff."

She grinned at him, "It's the night before we leave. Does anything stop you?"

"There are a few things. Packing isn't one of them. But, I'm guessing you are going to be far too distracted to have any fun…"

She was immediately up out of the suitcase, kissing him, pulling his tee shirt up and over his head. "Unexpected," he said.

"Shut," kiss, "up," kiss, "House."

"See now you're packing what you want," he said, smugly, as she pushed him down on the bed and sat on his stomach. "Or are you unpacking..." She grabbed the roll of bubble wrap. "I don't think I can breathe through that," he commented.

"Oh, I'm just bubble wrapping your cock, I don't care if the rest of you gets a little dinged up."

She had a wide, silly grin on her face as he shouted, "Oh…that's nice!"

She started giggling, her face happy as she played and flirted and he could feel a similar grin on his own face, mirroring her mood.

* * *

><p>Wide palm leaves blew in the afternoon breeze as a storm hovered out at sea. House was leaning over a computer, working until he heard giggles behind him. Ava, four years old and Jack, a year and a half, both far too observant for their ages, were standing behind him. "Whatcha doin', Dad?" Ava asked.<p>

"Working, what are _you_ doing?" he said confrontationally.

"Getting you. 'Cause Mommy said it's time for your knitting club. And Aunt Kate's here."

House looked down at his watch, "How was work?" House asked Jack.

Jack laughed in amusement. Jack laughed at almost everything House said in that particular tone. "Da-aaad," Ava said, "He's too young for a job."

Jack still had thick piles of hair, faded to a lighter chestnut shade with age and plenty of time in the sun, and his eyes settled to a cool grey. For such a tiny baby, he was a robust and healthy toddler. He had round chubby cheeks and often wore a smile on his face. House and Cuddy often wondered how the two of them could produce such an innately content child. It wasn't that either of them were miserable anymore, but they certainly seemed to have to work a long time to get to a place of happiness.

"Is that funny?" House asked. When Jack continued to laugh.

Ava took House's hand, and then Jack's. "Time to go guys," she said, dragging them out to the living room. Ava enjoyed her time with Kate, particularly after Jack would go to bed and she'd have an hour of her Aunt all to herself.

Ava's night terrors were mostly things of the past, but when they appeared, House always trudged to her room in the night and calmed her. She did have a few sketchy memories of the events of her very early life, from time to time she'd mention them to her parents, usually one on one. They didn't try to deter her from her exploration of her past memories, electing instead to be present and available to help her deal with those things as they came to her memory. The one thing that she understood without doubt, was that her parents met her by complete accident, but once they found her, they fought until she was theirs. There was something about their commitment and devotion to making her theirs, that always made Ava feel she was where she belonged.

Rachel was a member of the family as real and present as any of the others. Cuddy and House often shared stories of her. Ava liked the idea of an older sister, and when people would ask about her family, she'd say that she had a brother and a sister. They celebrated her birthday every year.

The kids began to hear early on about the some of their parents' struggles. As well as they got along, there were often disagreements, with more hushed tones than in their PPTH days, but with equally intense discourse. Often about work, these discussions became as much a part of the interactions between their parents as the intense love that existed between them. What the children knew, was that as inevitable problems arose, the respect that existed between their parents prompted them to discuss issues and reach compromise. When they were older and the subject came up, Jack and Ava could never picture their mother or father acting the way they did in the stories, and they couldn't fathom a time when the two were unable to express affection or talk openly.

Their new home was open and breezy, perfect for the tropical climate. One entire wall of the living room was covered with pictures of all three children, and a few even included House and Cuddy. Nestled along the side of a hill, along terraced steps of land, like all of the surrounding homes, the view was breathtaking. Lush green trees sprung between each home. At the base of the hill was a wide sandy beach, and stone walkways connected the homes to the main road. There was a simplicity there, a trust between neighbors that both House and Cuddy originally viewed with complete skepticism. After several months, they realized that the people saying good morning weren't looking for information, or making observations, or judging, they were saying good morning.

When they moved there, some of the locals were less than excited about the construction of a nearby clinic along the periphery of the village, until Kate, House and Cuddy were able to assist with some routine medical care and supplies, quickly gaining them a place in the small community.

Everyone knew Kate, the quintessential social butterfly, she'd host little events for the locals, and her training in psychology really helped her. Once the people in the village, and in a few surrounding villages, figured out she gave good advice and had a willing ear, she had a lot of patrons at her bar, and was soon asking for a room at the clinic, once it was completed, to see patients. She initially refused payment from the people who needed her, counting on their patronage at her bar, but she found frequent gifts and money at the door of the home she shared with Mel, left as a display of gratitude.

Celia resisted the move, repeatedly turning down House's offers until two days before they left. She had a change of heart, and with the more than generous paycheck she was going to receive, she knew she could fly back to visit her grandkids regularly. Less than a week after she moved, she met a man, widowed nearly twenty years. She was walking to the market one evening and he came up next to her to walk along. He was one of the oldest men living in that area, and offered to fill her in on all of the gossip. It was love.

House and Cuddy put a guest house on the edge of their property. As much as they encouraged Arlene or Blythe to visit, they didn't want them actually staying under the same roof. They flew back regularly. Their kids would joke as they grew older that their parents had it backwards, they were on vacation most of the time, and worked six weeks out of the year. They would return to PPTH to help Chase on occasion with patients who were too weak to travel, and the pair would get abnormally excited to return, briefly, to revisit their earlier years, and then were always more than eager to return home after the case was finished.

Blythe and Medford dated and got along wonderfully. He was still fastidious and tidy, a bit uptight, but he was pleasant and kind, and enjoyed the atmosphere of family. He and Blythe seemed to genuinely cherish each other's company. His niece and nephew, though older, enjoyed becoming an aunt and uncle to Ava and Jack. Arlene Cuddy, didn't change in the least. Although everyone knew she grew to love House, and always loved Cuddy, she maintained the same confrontational interactions with them. Eddie, Julia's son, called and emailed House regularly for advice, and spent a few summers with the family when his mother grew frustrated with her brooding teenaged son. Julia had mixed feelings when Eddie decided he was going to become a doctor.

Barbados was in many ways the perfect place for them. Called "Little England," English was the primary language, a fact that Cuddy was pleased with, and there were nearby schools for the children to attend when the time came. House, on the other hand was _disappointed_ that English was the primary language, a concession he made since Cuddy was willing to pack up her life to move to a tropical island with very few demands of her own. Fortunately, he met a man living in the next village who was from Japan, and offered to teach him to play the guitar in exchange for teaching the rest of the family Japanese. House felt it would give them the ability to speak in a language that no one else around them could understand.

When the kids weren't with them, it gave House the ability to say extremely inappropriate things to his wife in public without anyone understanding. That fact spurred Cuddy into acquiring the language more quickly, since she wanted to know what he was saying when he was leering at her in that way, and so she could provide witty responses to his comments and suggestions.

When Kate came to watch the kids for their Wednesday night fling, House and Cuddy began as they often did, walking down the paths to go wherever their mood took them. Far from their old haunts, they found themselves more easily affectionate, known in town for walking around hand-in-hand. To the growing Ava and Jack, that fact was not romantic, more horrifying, but they had little doubt that their parents loved each other deeply. Ava would often walk into rooms, find her parents and turn to her brother, saying, "Gross, they're staring again," as the two kids would run screaming from the room.

Wednesday night, they made their way down the path toward the clinic, construction completed, preparing to open the following Monday.

"So," House said, "I'm concerned with our children's education. Jack will be two...someday...I think they need more real world experience."

"Like…"

"Like visiting France. And learning things that are uniquely…French. Next country you pick. I'm thinking two class trips per year."

"For educational purposes?" she asked with a smirk.

"Absolutely," he responded.

"They took us to a farm for our field trip in school…certainly not France."

"To a farm? How lame."

"Yea."

"Were animals domesticated yet when you were a child?" he teased.

"You are such an ass," she giggled. "If animals weren't domesticated when _I _was a child, they must not have discovered fire yet when _you_ were."

"Touché."

"Well, their class trips sound like more fun, so I'm in," she answered.

"And then…after your trip, I'm taking Ava to meet Hawking. The kid has a mind for physics, so…she might as well learn from the best."

"She's four," Cuddy countered.

"Next year she'll be five. You can't start too young, the girl has questions. Lots…and lots…and lots…and…_lots_…of questions."

"You have his number?" Cuddy teased.

"Speed dial."

When they approached the doors to the clinic, House held out keys and jingled them momentarily before unlocking the doors. He held them open with exaggerated flourish and gestured her through the opening.

There was an open central room, with a welcoming desk and a small, comfortable waiting area with a sofa and several chairs. Next to the waiting area there was a space for children to play. "Probably more for ours than anything," House said, as he gestured to the toys. They had adjoining offices behind the waiting area, their names on the doors.

"Does it bother you…that I never changed my name?" she asked, as she looked at the name plate.

"It would get confusing if, in the midst of a work-related battle, we were each screaming 'House, shut up!' and if I had to yell 'House-Cuddy' or 'Cuddy-House' to get your attention, it would be both confusing and time consuming," he jested.

She smiled, "I'm serious. Does it bother you?"

"It isn't like you're trying to advertise that you are single or anything. I'll just keep branding you with that giant visible hickey so they know you're mine," he said.

Cuddy trailed her fingers along the desk in her office, her old medical school desk, which had been quickly pushed into storage when she left Princeton-Plainsboro, and brought out years later to be shipped, with most of their other larger items, by boat, to their new home at incredible expense.

She walked to the door that connected their two offices, each had a door directly into the central area, and then a door between their offices, as well as one to a shared private bathroom.

House's office had a whiteboard, the same one he stole from Chase that was originally his, insisting that, "It's hard to find a good white board." He had tennis balls, toys, a TV and games, each of their offices designed exactly as they wanted them. His office would be more popular than the waiting room play area with the kids.

Kate's office was next to House's, with a room to see patients and provide counseling. There were two small exam rooms and, behind those, rooms with various state-of-the-art diagnostics equipment, including an MRI machine that Cuddy begged House not to destroy. House gestured to one door and said, "Surprise for you…" and opened the door.

There were large glass patio doors on one end, opening to a private porch, it was a yoga and meditation studio. "You're kidding!" she said.

"You like it?"

"I…love it, it's amazing," she said as she walked around the room, amazed, as always, with his ability to bestow a perfect gift, exactly as she would have wanted it. The man knew her well, and remembered everything.

"This way, when you need to get away for a few minutes, take a break from me, or the kids, or work…you have a place."

"Where will you go get away from me?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"I don't want you to be able to easily find me when you're mad…my location changes as necessary," he said with a chuckle.

"This is…so fantastic!"

"If you ever wanted to…you could do yoga classes here. We could bring someone in…or you could teach it I'm sure."

"This is very cool," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Thank you."

"It's selfish. I like to encourage the yoga so I can bend and gumby your legs into whatever freaky position I want."

"That's funny," she said dryly, "That's the _exact_ reason I've been doing yoga all along."

They enjoyed a quiet moment until he looked down at her, asking, suddenly, "Why did you come here with me?"

"You're an idiot. This from the guy who tried to pack me in a suitcase and say he had everything he needed. I want to be where you are. As long as it's you and I and the kids…I'm good. Besides…we're happy here. A fresh start…was a very good idea."

"It was…wasn't it," he said smugly, taking her hand and leading her to the exam rooms.

When they walked in, he leaned against the door to close it, and said, "I'm out of practice, wanna play doctor?"

"At work?" she said, with mock surprise.

"So…what are the rules here. Is the new clinic a no-lovin' zone, or am I going to be able to convince you to do a little role playing now and then."

"We'll have to develop some rules."

He rolled his eyes, "Sure…the rules. I would be disappointed, _but_…rules mean that sometimes, under certain conditions, this is a love-zone. So, present to me your conditions."

She hopped up onto the exam table and removed her shoes one at a time, trailing her hands up her calves to her knees. "Well…no audiences…of any kind…or potential audiences…which means no sex on the counter in the center room right before people are supposed to arrive."

She slid the lower half of her dress higher up her body before reaching behind her to unzip the bodice. "Reasonable," he nodded, already distracted by the removal of her dress. "If we were going to put on shows…we should charge admission…no free peeks."

"Agreed," she said with a smirk. "We'd both have to consent," she added, releasing the clasps of her bra before letting the garment slip down over her arms.

"There's a rarity…_both_ of us wanting sex," he said, sarcastically, while enjoying the slow disrobe. "I do feel a bit better though, knowing you can't just take advantage of me at will, and I _actually_ have to be in the mood."

"I thought that would make you feel safer in the work place," she responded, pulling her feet up onto the exam table and leaning back to slip her panties over her butt and let them slide down her legs onto the floor.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Yea, get your ass over here for professional development."

He hooked his cane on the door knob and pressed the lock on the door before going to her.

Standing between her legs, facing her on the exam table, he ran his hands over her skin, feeling the softness, allowing the anticipation to fall over him while she undressed him. "Thank you for doing this," he said, his voice lower and softer than normal.

"Sex at work?" she asked with confusion, more interested in removing his clothes than talking.

"That too. But, coming here, with me, doing all of this, the clinic, the move, the book, putting up with…all that which is me."

"I am _NOT _putting up with you. Some day…you'll figure that out."

"Well then I guess I just meant sex at work."

She grinned, "You're welcome, it's all part of the marriage vows, 'love, honor, sex-you-up repeatedly at home, and at work, and anywhere else we deem appropriate."

**The End**

* * *

><p><em>Final Note-I was going to include an Epilogue next, so everyone could see where they are years down the line, but since you want a sequel, if I write the epilogue, you'll already know what happens…so this is the end of this one. I will come back for the sequel as soon as I figure out some good story lines, map out the plot, and once I finish up my other fic.<em>

_Thank you all so much for reading this and "playing along" with what I wanted to do. For some strange reason, I actually feel better for giving them a happy ending in my own little mind, because it was such a shame to let such awesome characters rot in misery…I actually feel sad leaving these characters, as they are in this story, go for a little bit, so I look forward to coming back to them.  
><em>

_To those of you who reviewed, (one time, or one-hundred-eleven times) thank you so much for taking the time to leave your thoughts. It's nice, even as just a fanfic writer, to know people are interested…whether they LOVE you, or HATE you…or somewhere in between. Anyone who wants to leave some final thoughts on their way out, it would be much appreciated._

_Writing like this can be daunting…putting your thoughts and ideas and skills on the line for people to judge, is an intimidating prospect. I'm glad I did it… you have all helped me to become a better writer than I was when I started…I hope. Anyway, thanks all!_

_-Grateful  
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